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incognit0slut · 1 year

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Right Kind of Wrong (11)

She ever thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Her involvement in the case becomes more crucial than she lets on. wc: 2.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: I know this part is long overdue, I've been very busy lately and I can't seem to write anything good for me to post. But do not fret, I am back and better than ever before (lol) Also, thank you for patiently waiting for this update🤍

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"I WOULD HAVE STRANGLED HIM IF I WERE YOU."

Y/n frowned as she watched the slight furrow on her friend's brow, adding an element of emphasis to her words.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sandy rolled her eyes, leaning against the plush couch in the living room with a tall glass in her hand. "I'm just saying," she explained. "He was being a total jerk."

She let out a sigh. A slight confusion weaved itself whenever she contemplated him. She thought that voicing out her emotions on what occurred these past few days could ease her, yet thinking of him was only making her question her sanity. It was as if her mind was attempting to decipher a language it didn't fully comprehend, leaving her caught between curiosity and apprehension.

She honestly didn't know what to think anymore. One minute she felt like she was head over heels for the guy, and the next minute strangling him didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

She could even list all of the things about him that riled her up, yet somehow the thought of having her hands wrapped around his throat reminded her of something entirely different, which was why she found herself saying, "You know, he would actually enjoy that."

Sandy raised her brows. "What? Getting choked to death?"

She scoffed. "No, not to that extent. But like, in another context." She then narrowed her eyes. "If you know what I mean."

The subtle innuendo didn't go unnoticed as Sandy's eyes widened in surprise. "No way."

"Way."

"Damn," her friend mused before taking a sip of her drink. "Smart and kinky. If only he wasn't such an ass to you."

Smart and kinky weren't exactly words she considered using in one sentence, but the sound of them put together surprisingly sounded enticing. It sounded enticing enough that her mind was starting to play tricks on her. It sounded good enough that she found herself starting to miss him, even when logic dictates that she shouldn't.

And now it sounded compelling enough that she couldn't help but weigh in the pros and cons when it came to the man, putting the cons on his ability to switch attitude in a span of seconds into a completely different person—not to mention his tendency to assume biased reasonings based on poor judgment.

On the other hand, the pros were very hard to ignore. There was a certain charm in his awkward demeanor, especially in his shy and uncertain smile every time it was directed her way. Then there was also his intelligent mind she was definitely drawn to.

But above all that, he was, without a doubt, a certified freak in the sheets.

And that was on top of her list.

A subtle sigh escaped her lips, revealing a hint of her internal struggle. "I mean, he did have a good point, don't you think?"

"Y/n," Sandy warned disapprovingly.

"What? He was only doing his job..." She glanced at her. "...right?"

"This is the alcohol talking," Sandy dismissed before standing up. "You would never forgive a man this easy if you were sober."

"It's Margarita Night, what's the point of being sober?" She proved her point by finishing the last drop of liquor from her glass, the vibrant notes of freshly squeezed lime and tequila playing across her taste buds.

Sandy simply scoffed as she took her glass and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking together following behind as she started making them a refill.

Y/n leaned back and closed her eyes, her body poised for a moment of relaxation. But just as the first tendrils of calm began to envelop her, a sharp interruption pierced through the air—the sound of the doorbell ringing.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she rose from the couch. "Our pizza is here!"

Light steps carried her to the door as her stomach grumbled in anticipation, the scent of cheesy goodness already wafting through her imagination. She slowly wrapped her hand around the doorknob and swung the door open, but instead of being greeted by the delivery guy clad in his familiar uniform, the last person she thought would be on the other side of her door stood right in front of her.

Her eyes widened, capturing the shock that rendered her momentarily speechless. Time seemed to slow as her heart raced with caution while she attempted to process on what was happening.

What were the chances of seeing him again right at the moment when she had her friend coming over just so she could rant about the guy?

It was as if the universe was playing a trick on her, presenting a twist she could never have anticipated. As the seconds ticked by, she then finally found her voice, a mix of caution and confusion lacing her words as she muttered, "You're not the delivery guy."

"I'm not," Spencer—god, she still couldn’t believe he was here—responded, his eyes scanning along her features. "Sorry to disappoint you."

There was a fleeting moment where their gaze met, an unspoken wariness passing between them. The memory of their last meeting surfaced with a wave of tension that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She watched as his expression shifted, the space between them seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.

Then a throat being cleared cut through the silence, a soft disruption that broke the spell of their locked eyes. Startled, her gaze broke away from his, shifting to the source of the interruption. And there, standing beside him was another figure—a woman she hadn't noticed until that very moment.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as she glanced at the familiar face, recalling the blonde-haired lady as one of the agents she met at the bureau the other day. Agent... Jareau, was it?

Yes, that was definitely her name. She was one of the few agents who actually treated her without judgment, checking in on her from time to time, which was why she focused her attention on her instead.

"Agent Jareau, what brings you here?"

"Sorry to barge in this late," she replied with an apologetic smile. "But we'd like to have a few words with you."

"It's fine." Y/n stepped aside and pulled the door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, it's alright, we'll be quick—"

"Yes."

Her gaze turned back to the other man and narrowed her eyes.

"I think it’s better to have this conversation inside."

She studied him for a moment before nodding, letting the two agents step inside her home. There was a clatter coming from the kitchen as she closed the door before walking down the hallway, expecting them to follow behind. "We can talk in the living room but—"

"We're putting you on protection."

She abruptly turned on her heels. "What?"

Agent Jareau sent a disapproving look towards Spencer as if trying to say this was not how they usually handle things in this situation. The woman turned back to her and gave her a reassuring smile before explaining, "We've been investigating the situation thoroughly, and it appears that the Unsub we're dealing with might have developed an unhealthy obsession with you."

Her heart slowly raced, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through her veins as the words finally sink in. "Obsession?” Her brows furrowed deeper. “What do you mean?"

"As you may know, all of the victims were related to you in one way or another, where you received some kind of mistreatment by them all. We believe the Unsub might be doing this out of his way to protect you."

She felt a knot tightening in her stomach, a growing sense of vulnerability she had never experienced before. "P-Protect me? But why?"

Agent Jareau's expression softened as she continued, "We're still working to understand the motives behind their actions. But given the escalating behavior and the potential danger it poses, we've decided it's best to put you under protection."

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. "Protection? Like... witness protection?"

Spencer, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "Something similar. We're proposing a protective measure—having an officer discreetly follow you during your daily routine."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to be followed?"

Agent Jareau interjected, "It's for your own safety. We believe that having an officer close by could deter any potential threat and give us a better chance of identifying the Unsub."

Her mind raced as she considered the implications. "But how will I know? Will the officer be obvious?"

"Officer Anderson is currently outside in a separate car. He's trained to blend in while keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings."

"I..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Will he be there all the time?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, but we'll do our best to be inconspicuous. You won't even know he's there most of the time."

The idea of having an undercover officer tailing her sent a mixture of emotions coursing through her veins. Safety, yes, but also an unsettling feeling of being under constant scrutiny.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is."

Her thoughts suddenly spun like a whirlwind, torn between disbelief and grim realization. She had always taken her daily routines for granted, the simple act of going to work or meeting friends devoid of apprehension. Now, each step she took seemed laden with an invisible weight, as if unseen eyes were tracking her every movement.

And to top it all, was she actually the sole reason behind these murders? She wasn't exactly the one acting out these gruesome crimes, yet it might as well happened because of her. Who could harbor such an unhealthy fixation on her? What had she done to attract this unwanted attention?

The unanswered mysteries gnawed at her.

Agent Jareau reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she read the familiar look in her eyes, it was the same look whenever a witness was starting to blame themselves. "This isn't your fault, we're here to support you through this. Your safety is our priority.”

With a deep breath, she nodded, silently accepting the protection they offered. The blonde-haired woman then gestured for her to open the door, which she did, and pointed towards a car parked a few blocks away with its window down, revealing a normal-looking guy sitting behind the wheel.

"That's Officer Anderson, he'll be trailing behind you at a safe distance. You won't even notice he's there."

The officer caught them staring and lifted his hand, a gesture of his greeting. Y/n waved back at him. "Great, I've always wanted a personal bodyguard."

Unfortunately, none of the two agents standing beside her caught the sarcasm in her voice. Agent Jareau turned back to her. "You have our number, right? You can call us anytime if you need assistance."

She did have her number, she also had Agent Prentiss' number who constantly assured her to call if she ever found anything new that could help with the investigation. But surprisingly, out of all the agents she met, the one agent she didn't have their number was the one she had been sleeping with all along.

Not that she was ever going to call him. She simply nodded out of politeness, and as she did, she could feel watchful eyes staring at her intently. Agent Jareau's keen eyes also caught the subtle interaction unfolding before her. She caught the way Spencer's gaze fixed with unwavering intensity on Y/n, who seemed determinedly oblivious to the weight of his stare, or rather, she was purposefully attempting to ignore his scrutiny.

Sensing the tension in the air, she took a step back, offering a fleeting glance to Spencer before turning to leave. "I'll wait in the car."

Her footsteps softly echoed in the night as she disappeared, and Y/n wasn't sure whether being left with him was a good idea.

She could feel the subtle shifts of his movements, the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, as they stood just inches apart. She could also feel the warmth radiating from his body, a tantalizing contrast to the cool breeze that brushed against her skin.

"You okay?"

The air felt charged with tension as he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and sincerity.

"It's safe to say I'm far from being okay," she decided to say.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers curling and then relaxing by his sides. His lips parted slightly as if he were on the cusp of forming the words he had carried within him for so long. His gaze, intense yet searching, traced the contours of her face as if trying to find the right entry point into a conversation that had been left untouched.

And then he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

She finally dragged her gaze on him with an expression that betrayed little emotion. "Are you sorry because a serial killer out there has an unhealthy obsession with me or are you sorry about your misconception of me?"

"Both." He seemed to search her eyes for a reaction, his uncertainty palpable. "But you must understand I was doing my job, it was never my intention to hurt you."

"But you did hurt me," she answered, her gaze dropping momentarily before returning to meet his. "Whether it was intentional or not."

He seemed to struggle for words, a mix of emotions playing across his features "I know. I'm sorry."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining impassive. After hearing the new update on the case and how much she was actually involved, she wasn’t in the mood to be having a serious conversation.

"It's getting late,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “You should probably leave."

Spencer let out a sigh. "Listen, I—"

"It’s getting late,” she repeated, her voice sounding severe. “We can have this conversation another time.”

His shoulders slumped, the weight of his remorse heavy on his chest. He had hoped for a reaction, a sign that his apology had made a difference. Instead, her indifference left him feeling adrift, as if it was a barrier that he couldn't breach, a shield that rendered his efforts to make amends ineffective.

There was nothing else he could do as she turned to face him fully again, her eyes meeting his with a calm finality.

"Good night, Dr. Reid."

He reluctantly took a step back.

"Good night," he murmured.

Then with a nod, he slowly turned away, leaving her standing there all alone. Her gaze remained fixed on his receding figure, his form gradually blending into the night.

Doubt suddenly gnawed at the edges of her consciousness—Had she made the right choice? Was her choice to distance herself a shield to guard against potential heartache, or was it a missed opportunity to rebuild what had been lost?

She shook her head and went back inside, closing the door behind her before leaning against it. It wasn't until she heard footsteps emerging from the kitchen that she realized Sandy was still here.

"What was that all about?"

Y/n glanced at her friend. The two freshly filled glasses in her hands were calling out to her and drowning herself in heaps amount of alcohol seemed like a good idea, even when she was probably going to regret it tomorrow morning. But she needed to feel numb by all of these emotions.

She watched as Sandy offered her a glass, waiting for her reply. There were a lot of things she could answer with, but the only matter that stood out to her was the new revelation on her involvement on the case. So she took the glass from her and pressed her lips around the rim as her mind drifted toward the disguised officer sitting right outside her house.

There was no other way than to explain it as it was.

"I think I might be in danger."

>> NEXT PART

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @louderfortheback @busy-buzzing @alexis-exe2008 @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @avid-fic-reader-05

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98

PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

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Hello! Someone reposted your work(s) over wattpat, their username is @smileybannana

Just wanted to let you know, have a nice day!

I actually reactivated my old dead wattpad account just to look into this, and I (fortunately) didn't see anything of mine within the chapters of stolen Harry Potter fanfiction that they posted. so it seems like you're probably copy/pasting this as a mass message to people who write Harry Potter x reader stuff (and likely Avengers x reader stuff, because that is the other main fandom that the person has stolen from, but I don't write for avengers at all) - thank you for informing me and other people, but they haven't stolen from me specifically

EDIT: WHILE I WAS GOING THROUGH AND MAKING THE TAGLIST, I FOUND MINE 🤦‍♀️ RIP. See this asshole couldn't even be creative enough or smart enough to steal the fucking titles too, so I was looking in the wrong chapters. That was a goddamn jumpscare

accounts like this are absolutely scummy as fuck. copy/pasting other people's fics and 'giving credit' to the original author (aka putting the person's username at the top, likely without any permission to repost the fic) - luckily, that means I can tag all those people in this post <3

here is the account in question:

and here is a link to the Harry Potter fics they have re-posted

EDIT - the Harry Potter fanfics have been taken down/deleted from this person's account since I posted this!! We did it 💖

I am unsure about the Avengers fics, but I hope those are taken down too/get taken down soon.

I was planning on going through and tagging victims from the other stories as well, but Tumblr only allows 50 tags per post and I think I have reached that. Holy fuck it is so sad that this many people have had their fics stolen, especially because a lot of these authors have more than one of their fics stolen by this awful scummy person. If you know someone in the Avengers fandom who writes x reader fics, please send them the links to the fics below so that they can check of their story has been stolen and they can report it!!!

and here is a link to one of their Avengers thievery

and here is a link to the second set of stolen Avengers fics

so please, even if these aren't your fics, please report the account and have them taken down!!! stealing fics is so scummy and nasty, when those fics are on tumblr, you can just reblog them if you appreciate them and enjoy them

#sundrop answers #not a fic #psa #anonymous #bucky barns x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n

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yellowhollyhock · 2 months

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vent post got long

there have been different experiences throughout my life that can make it hard to talk

difficulty with volume control. especially as a little kid (3-5); yelling when I meant to talk, talking when I meant to whisper, whispering when I meant to keep the thought in my head. I'm sure my memory is skewed but it felt like I was always in trouble for it, from peers as much if not more than adults

fast forward a few years, and for the biggest chunk of my childhood, it's thinking I'm projecting when I'm really not. No one can hear me. People are constantly frustrated with me for not speaking up. It's easier to just not speak.

theatre classes helped a lot. I started to love public speaking. Even started to not hate socializing quite as much.

then had to go to college. all the skills I'd built up for years seemed to disappear for no reason. looking back such a big change in all my environments and routines would of course cause skill regression. but I didn't understand anything about myself at the time, I thought I was just stupid. And everyone still expected me to be smart. When I tried to ask for help they'd remind me how smart I was.

and then recently, somewhere in the middle of all that--a string of roommates/co-workers/felt like everyone around me with no escape, had this attitude of perfectionism.

Sending a text? there are a thousand ways to make the person on the receiving end immediately assume you hate them because you didn't follow their made-up rules about emojis and punctuation (I would try to explain that not everyone is like that, and if someone misunderstands you can always clarify, but being surrounded by people who were in fact looking for reasons to assume your text had ill intent made it harder and harder to believe)

Making cookies for a friend? Well don't bring them over on a paper plate ugh if someone did that to me I would feel so insulted. We need to actually put effort in so they know we actually care.

Literally walking back to the apartment looking at the moon together, completely relaxed until suddenly I'm in trouble for apparently not being emotional enough about it? sounding bored or something? got teased about it for weeks, at least it seems that way when I try to remember.

Those are real literal examples. It was like that all the time I thought I was losing my mind. Reinforced a deep mistrust of my peers that I thought I had grown past (that I worked really hard for years to grow past in spite of being treated badly because I believed things would get better and that at least part of the problem was my attitude). I think some part of me expected that it'd get better because my peers had become adults. Stupid assumption

Had one roommate early on who wasn't like that. Fell in love with her--didn't know I liked girls before that--transferred schools (was going to anyway), lost touch

Writing is a coping skill I've relied on since I could write. Volume isn't a factor. How long it takes me to put together my ideas isn't a factor (in texting it sometimes is, but expectations are also lower for how coherent my ideas are--unless someone raises them again). Figuring out when it's my turn to talk is much less of a factor.

For the past like 3ish years I don't think I've ever had less than 50 unread texts. College and other experiences surrounding it absolutely destroyed the things I used to love about myself. I'm building back up. But it's hard. It's hard that everyone else perceives dropping out as the big problem when it's actually the first decision that felt like mine in a long time and the only reason I was able to start writing again. And start speaking again. I have shorter non-verbal periods and usually am able to string together adult-sounding sentences (I hate describing it that way but I don't know how else to explain. In college I would have a really hard time getting words out but didn't feel like not talking was an option, so I'd skip pronouns and prepositions, my pronunciation was slurred and my volume control was out of whack. This also only happened sometimes, and was really humiliating to get stuck in in front of people who were used to hearing me talk 'normal') (giving myself permission to use what my mom use to call 'baby talk' has been one of the hardest things and also one of the most helpful)

Anyway when I take forever to respond to messages I'm not ignoring and I'm not mad. it's probably because I've forgotten how to make feelings into words. It helps a ton that on here I'm talking about things I choose with people who are nice to me, but it still happens where I just get stuck thinking that anything I say will be taken as an insult and scared that I'm gonna sound stupid

#personal #memories #this belongs in a journal where i'll actually be able to find it again #but right now tumblr is easier than journal

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ruleofbirds · 5 months

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𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚕𝚘𝚐_𝟶𝟸.𝟷

Moa's Ark & Zealandia

https://www.nzonscreen.com/title/moas-ark-1990/series

Moa's Ark (1990s TV series) opening animation. It was during the 90's that scientists formulated the "Zealandia" protocontinent theory and complexity of how species migrated over time, putting the last nail in the coffin of the idea that everyone got a free ride over on a piece of Australia. Going through Aotearoa's natural history doco archives has been a lot of fun.

Hello again! I took a bit of a break in posting long- form updates, but I think there's enough on my mind for a second batch of posts this week. After that there will again just be small updates on the Instagram until May - when I may have some sort of concept media for the sim to show off. For now I'll aim for a focused peek into a couple of aspects of it as usual.

This post is going to be all about the Moa, the species that got me hooked on this project. It's also going to be about species variation, and the tension between scientific accuracy and visual accessibility.

Moa skeletal reconstitutions at Te Papa Tongarewa, Museum of New Zealand.

A couple of interesting facts about the moa;

-We currently classify them as nine species. Here is a full catalog of every time someone thought they'd found a new one:

-Within many species, female moa can be more than twice the size of males (yes, this is one reason so many moa "species" were identified)

-Moa are unique in that they had no wings (not even the kiwi's tiny t-rex stubs) and, thank goodness because so many NZ species can be traced back to evolving from Australian fauna, their closest past relatives are South American tinamous rather than the emu.

-They also got a bad wrap for their past perception as tall, emu- like, big dumb grass grazers. Actually, while they're nowhere near as smart as multi-sense-foraging kiwi, they could identify and feast on a whole variety of twigs, herbs, leaves and berries - most of which were found in the more common forest than grassland.

This is why they have a bulky build and head-forward posture (until kinda recently, museum curators tended to give them that tall, emu/giraffe like posture, even adding extra vertebrae for show.)

Whanganui Regional Museum (This isn't close to the worst examples)

So; how do I even begin to approach the scope, as well as potential uncertainty, of data we have on the Moa?

Here's one way: Oversimplification!

Screenshots from Godot editor & runtime previews for compatibility (web) mode and forward+ (basically more shaders) renderer. The camera is RTS- style; getting the runtime shots was a bit finnicky.

I've started to build low-poly models in Blender for the fauna, which in the future I'd love to rig for animation and get super technical with appearance variation. For now I'll focus on the system for placing them in the right biome and basic pathing behaviour, and the Moa will be a North Island giant moa based vaguely off this model for an AR national park exhibit: https://moaparkotorohanga.wordpress.com/2014/07/08/a-collection-of-moa-feedback-from-trevor-worthy-and-lizzy-perrett/

While I'm not working directly on the simulator for the next while, I am building this 2D tool to represent the moa's species variation; it is *incredibly* helpful to have just set up a system where I can add and edit instances of a broader Moa "class", and I'm looking forward to giving each species its visual character (the main creative liberty I'll be taking is colour coding from grey to brown to communicate which of New Zealand's islands each species populated, as well as their preferred biome (there's 3 main ones: subalpine mountain, wet podocarp forest, dry forest/ lowland)

Moa "collection" project at time of writing.

If this exercise has highlighted anything though, it's just how difficult it is to reduce life's complexities to a single shape that represents a single numeric value. Those who read my last posts may remember that any given moa species' size may have varied over time and with temperature, (generally bigger during ice ages and smaller out of them) along altitude, (generally bigger and bulkier higher up) and just within species based on how they adapted to any given place. Not to mention the relatively massive lady moa.

And since we're only working with what's left of them all - the only intact gizzard samples proving that whole diet theory, and most of the remains we have to work with, are those found in Pyramid Valley in Canterbury (a swamp with surrounding mosaic of vegetation and forest) - who knows how to truly depict what life was like tens of thousands of years ago.

From the Moa book by Quinn Berentson

A very cursed JavaScript "spreadsheet".

So, very long-winded post. I hope you found something interesting within! Something that made you think about nature's craziness maybe. I meant to get across just how much there is to scientific communication, and I barely touched on how I aim to keep the overall narrative in focus (or basically be aware of it.)

I can't wait to work on this more collaboratively, with folks who really know their stuff about ecology and the cultural aspects of Aotearoa - I think the potential for collaboration and education is what's keeping me going with this project.

Until next time ! - here's some of my highlights from a trip to the Zealandia ecosanctuary.

Kia hora te marino

Kia whakapapa pounamu te moana

Hei huarahi mā tātou i te rangi nei

Aroha atu, aroha mai

Tātou i a tātou katoa

Hui e! Tāiki e!

May peace be widespread

May the sea be like greenstone

A pathway for us all this day

Let us show respect for each other

For one another

Bind us all together!

#devlog #gamedev #indiedev #programming #birblr #moss #plants #aotearoa #oceania #natural history #nature #godot engine #javascript #ecology #science

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blubberquark · 2 years

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AI Art For Procedural Generation in 2022

Can you make a roguelike with GPT-3?

I find the discussion about "AI art" incredibly annoying. People talk past each other about an ill-defined concept. They put forth impassioned but bad arguments for what should in my view have been the null hypothesis. Trolls use this opportunity to pick fights with furries and insult artists with MFA degrees. It's just bait.

Many arguments are too general, they prove too much: If you think that all copyright is fake and you'd rather live in a world where Tesla can ignore the GPL but you can use Disney characters, then come out and say so. Don't talk about whether something currently is "fair use" or legal if you are making a moral argument (about what should be legal), or vice versa. If you say that people should not "waste" their time painting pictures or writing novels and painting should only ever be a hobby and not a career, I don't think it's worth responding to. If you think that Midjourney "learns to paint just like a human artist", then don't say anything.

I know I risk attracting trolls by even touching this topic, and a lot of this is so stupid because it happens on twitter, not because of the subject matter, but I think I can offer a unique perspective and conclusively answer at least one particular question: Should text-to-image AI art and neural network text generation as it exists today be used for procedural generation in computer games?

No. It shouldn't. It can, but it shouldn't. It can be used, but then you'd just do it so you can write "made with state of the art AI generation" on the back of the box.

The term "AI Art"

I am using "AI Art" to refer to text-to-image systems such as Stable Diffusion, Dall-E 2, Midjourney, and so on. I think "AI Art" is a misnomer, and there should be a different term that refers to the thing "AI Art" refers to, such as "language model combined with reverse image recognition" or "transformer+GAN based statistical learning" or "text prompt based big data image generation".

It's easy to define what "AI Art" is not. "AI Art" is not backed by AGI, not backed by symbols, does not use taxonomies or ontologies. Those systems are based on neat ideas, but the products we see are often scruffy and full of hacks and special cases to guarantee certain results.

Game AI

In a similar vein, "Game AI" is a misnomer. Most "AI" needed in games is just simple state machines and A*. Occasionally you see something like STRIPS, e.g. HTN or GOAP, or very simple reinforcement learning, or pre-trained neural networks.

But games do not need to be intelligent. Game design can be intelligent, and then the intelligent stuff is hard-coded. NPCs don't need to be smart and unpredictable, they need to be well-written, or balanced, or predictable enough for the player to know how to protect them during escort missions.

AI opponents don't need to be smarter than the player. They should be just smart enough to post a challenge, but that challenge can also be created by giving the opponent more resources.

AI techniques in games are used to fill in the blanks in player input through unit pathing and similar systems, but those are usually not called "Game AI".

(I said this all before, so I am not going into more detail)

Procedural Generation

Procedural content generation at run-time - PCG for short - is used in games to make every run, every match, or every play session unique. If you are a game developer deciding whether to use procedural generation, you are acutely aware of the trade-offs that can be made here, and why you would or wouldn't do PCG. If the game is meant to be played only once, you can generate content procedurally, but there is no need to do so at runtime. You could generate some candidates, choose the best one, tweak it, and ship it with the game. Procedural generation allows the game world to extend infinitely in all directions. But does it need to? The boundaries between "randomised" and "procedurally generated" are vague and fuzzy.

Most procedural content generation is just simple combinatorial picking: "Red Mace (+3) of Valor" could be a weapon by picking a colour, noun, and suffix, plus a damage modifier appropriate to the part of the dungeon the player is in, plus some kind of final check to make sure nothing too game-breaking is generated.

Most procedural generation in games is not based on general-purpose AI, but instead uses purpose-built algorithms that are inspired by AI techniques, or employ some kind of AI technique or algorithm as one pass of a multi-step process: To design a level, you could generate rooms, connect rooms, check room connectivity (the AI step), place furniture, place monsters, place loot, and so on. There is no need to throw all your level design constraints into a discrete solver, it suffices if you use a much more specific generation algorithm, or even an ad-hoc process that may or may not satisfy those constraints, with a check in the end.

Most procedural generation in games has tweakable input parameters.

The reason for all this is that PCG is there to surprise the player, to provide variety within tight constraints, to make different runs or playthroughs of different players unique, but not so unique that it becomes a different game every time. Procedural content generation uses building blocks that were carefully designed, and puts them together according to rules the player doesn't know, but he recognises that the output follows familiar patterns. PCG creates slightly novel or merely randomised situations that are clearly legible to players. PCG creates parameterised content that fits into existing game mechanics and systems. Prompt-based systems using deep neural networks are not as good at generating pieces that fit into systems as GOFAI-inspired systems and scruffy, ad-hoc hand-written generators.

Output

Games usually can't work with raw text, whether generated by GPT-3 or scraped from the web. They can't work with unlabelled images, whether generated by Midjourney, Creative Commons search, or returned by a Bing Images query (Google don't even let you use their image search through an API) .

AI art generators don't output rigged 3D models, and they usually don't output the same character from different angles, in different light, or making different expressions. They output multiple candidate images. Those images need to be assessed and filtered.

Text generators might output a quest when prompted to. That blob of text is useless to game systems. What kind of action is needed to complete the quest? These parameters need to be parsed out of the text.

Would you have to ask GPT-3 questions about the thing it just generated in order to use it in your game?

Input

How do you prompt these things? How do you prompt for a dwarf character, an elf character, and a human in the same art style? How do you prompt for a level, for a floor plan, for a book? Do you have to input all background knowledge and lore every time?

Do you generate text and feed the generated text into the image prompt? If you have quests and items, do you verbalise game systems? Do you need to mark special game constructs as important so they appear in the output?

If you generate images from images, can you verbally ask the AI to adhere to certain animation constraints?

Adaptability

Procedural generation systems usually have many dials you can fiddle with, parameters that are easily adaptable. In dungeon generation, I can think of the size of a room, the length of a corridor, the backtracking behaviour, the chance to spawn a set piece. All those can be tuned to the gameplay mechanics, and gameplay parameters like drop rates and monster spawn chances can in turn be tuned to level geometry.

Maybe your game can generate a room that looks like a trap, or it can show you a sleeping ogre with an unknown treasure chest in a side room, and a main path with some traps and puzzles. The game would know to put a (+1) sword in the main path, and a (+3) sword in the ogre challenge room.

I don't know how to do that with language models, text-to-text or text-to-image. Maybe I could have a long paragraph of exposition about game difficulty when I talk to GPT-3.

Randomness

How would you inject randomness into the generation process? Sure, you could just rely on the internal state of the neural network being slightly different each time. That might risk generating three samey outputs and one wacky one.

How can we generate interesting ideas? How can we generate Captain Chihuahua, a pirate dog with a coffee mug for a hand?

One way would be to randomise the prompt, to generate a prompt from a grammar, so we have a ninja horse, a cowboy chicken, and a pirate Chihuahua. Generating those via GPT-3 and then feeding them into image generation might prove difficult, but using a grammar limits your options and defeats the purpose of "advanced AI".

You could of course reach into the network (well, if you have it running on your local machine and understand how it works), and access a compressed distributed representation, latent space, sparse autoencoder, whatever non-linear thing that looks like principal components except non-linear and makes for impressive grant proposals. Then you take the vector for "chihuahua" and go from there into a direction in latent space where no training example had gone before, to generate an eldritch lizard Chihuahua. Then you feed that vector into your language model and hope you get a sensible string of text to refer to that thing.

You could generate a random visual style

With regular PCG, you can put a random texture on a random animal, resulting in a dog with scales that walks like a chicken. Imagine you could generate the eldritch lizard Chihuahua with AI: Would that make for better gameplay?

Bowls of Oatmeal

It should be easy enough to use Dall-E or Midjourney or Stable Diffusion to generate grass textures. I can even imagine a procedurally generated art gallery based on procedurally generated prompts, a procedurally generated family tree based on procedurally generated family members, or a procedurally generated library full of books written by GPT-3. None of those examples really interact with the mechanics of the game, but they fit perfectly.

I could also imagine a game where character portraits are generated according to exact specifications, but nobody notices that the game is randomised. The problem is not just that it all looks the same, but that it doesn't add anything.

Making it Work

I am sure some enterprising game devs will make it work in the near future. They may generate a library of books, or a city of NPCs with unique faces, or a visual novel where all the visual parts are generated from text.

I am also sure somebody will build an "AI art" system that generates fully rigged 3D characters or 2D characters with alternative facial expressions based on just a text prompt. It's only a matter of hooking up already-existing systems, and feeding in lots of training data.

Heck, I myself could build a procedural animation system that uses neural networks, character traits, and emotional states to procedurally generate body language. It wouldn't be cheap or easy, as I might have to pay actors to act out scenes in mocap suits, or pay click workers to annotate body language and posture in random movie clips, but it could be done. But I could already have done that ten years ago. Machine learning where you have a funtion with inputs and outputs and you train the machine to approximate the function based on examples - that's not new! The whole point of language models and text-to-image prompt-based generation is two-fold: You can use a lot of unlabelled data to train your big model. You even don't use any labels or input-output pairs to use the model. To train a neural network, I say f(po-tay-toe)=po-tah-toe, f(eeh-ther)=aye-ther. In the world of GPT-3, you say to-may-toe and the AI figures out the rest.

I could also imagine, like I said in the preceding paragraphs, generating text prompts from a grammar (but why not just generate the text then), parsing generated text and doing image segmentation (but why not parse a text or scan an image from a corpus), or doing some funky vector space structure stuff (I know the mathematical terminology, but I am deliberately being vague here, because it doesn't matter to this argument which type of embedding or representation or encoder we would use). But all that would just use machine learning to do things I can do without machine learning, in a more complicated way, to put them into a world that is based on gameplay code that has more in common with old-fashioned AI more than with modern machine learning systems.

Uses for AI art

So we can't really use AI art for procedural generation. That doesn't mean AI art can't be used at all. It can obviously be used to generate characters, props, and environment art with a human in the loop. If you want to one-shot generate a pirate Chihuahua with a coffee mug for a hand, and you can't draw well enough to do your idea justice, then AI art is a way to get there. You could use any of the dozens of image generation systems to make characters and backgrounds and then manually rig them, select what fits into your style, make sure the characters don't all have the same face, and refine your prompts so you can generate everything in the same style.

But what you absolutely cannot do is let a computer decide whether a Chihuahua would wear pants on two legs or on four, or if instead maybe the coffee mug is carried around the neck of his first mate, who happens to be a St. Bernard.

#AI art #procedural generation #game design #artifical intelligence

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vagrantshiraeth · 2 months

Text

You're smart. Do you really need me to teach you this?

BYF/BYI

✦ Mun is 18 turning 19. Mun is also not comfortable with NSFW/suggestive threads with non-mutuals.

✦ I'm a multishipper, and so far, the ships that I enjoy are Chiscara, Kazuscara, Heiscara, Scarabedo, Sethoscara, Haiscara, Traveler x Wanderer and even any poly ships between any of these characters (in no specific order). I also do like other ships but these are my preferences! As for OCs (mutual exclusive), I genuinely do not mind as long as I like them, hehe.

✦ Not sure on how to interact or what's allowed? Here's a quick breakdown:

For anons and blogs with a minor admin: ⋆.˚ can send SFW interaction asks, memes, etc. (short asks like "how are you?" or "does Wanderer like sweets?"). ⋆.˚ can send continuous asks as long as it's not roleplay format or anything of the like. ⋆.˚ can send in random prompts for me to write (like request drabbles). please note i am not obligated to write it. ⋆.˚ cannot have long roleplay threads unless i know you outside of your anonymous alias (like ✨ anon). ⋆.˚ cannot send romantic or NSFW/suggestive asks. (immediate block)

For adult blogs: ⋆.˚ can send SFW interaction asks, memes, etc, and request for roleplay. For roleplay, please head to DMs! Please talk to me first without springing a roleplay thread on me :) ⋆.˚ can do things similar to rule #2 and #3 in the section above. ⋆.˚ can send romantic asks. ⋆.˚ cannot send NSFW/suggestive asks, unless you are a mutual (in which case, again, please talk to me before sending it!).

RULES

✦ Be polite to everyone, including me. We may disagree on certain things but it shouldn't encourage you to stop being respectful to others, much less use any derogatory words.

✦ You can call the Wanderer whatever name you want, just keep it respectful (or don't. If I'm in a good mood and I know you enough to know you're only joking with the character, you might get a silly response).

✦ Wanderer is willing to take part in platonic, familial and romantic relationships, but only if it's slow-burn (takes time to build their relationship). I do not want to roleplay any immediate relationship unless it is established canonically or has been discussed and agreed on.

✦ I encourage canon characters to come interact with me! OCs are strictly limited to mutuals that I've interacted with. Be warned that I might not be interested to partake in romantic roleplays with OCs. I definitely, definitely want to roleplay found family tropes with OCs, should you have any!

✦ I enjoy canonverse, but AUs are also great and I encourage them. Feel free to ask if you'd like to interact / share ideas about them! In that note, do not harass anyone over any headcanons or AU ideas.

✦ I have every right to refuse any roleplays / delete asks that might make me uncomfortable or does not fit the criteria.

Still finding it difficult to navigate? Hah, you're lucky my assistant wants to help.

"— gales of reverie" - The Wanderer's post. (in character)

"— and the wind responds" - The Wanderer / Assistant answering interactions

"— so the wind whispers" - OOC post / Assistant's musings.

"— name's constellation" - interaction with whom.

"— summoning a breeze" - reblogging tag.

"— beloved of the past" - mutuals

"— illuminated history" - important post.

@ vagrantshiraeth 2024

#— illuminated history

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wandaromanova · 3 years

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Can u do a fic where fem!reader and Nat are broken up and they’re pretty hostile with each other but when one of them gets hurt on a mission they realize they’re still in love and get back together thank u if u write this :)))))))

I Love You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, violence, that’s it i believe

A/N: hi! i hit 300 followers! i posted my very first story 3 weeks ago and only had like 10 followers then. i can’t even begin to express how grateful i am that i’ve been able to bring people joy (or pain lol) with my stories. thank you. not proofread. <3

Summary: Ex-lovers Natasha and Y/N dance around their feelings for each other. They decide that hostility was the best course of action.

Word Count: 2.5K

(gif is not mine)

You and Natasha dated for a year and a half before you guys decided to call it quits. It was a mutual agreement, but there was still some sort of bad blood between the both of you that was painfully obvious. The tension could be cut with a knife.

You guys were going great at first. You both understood each other on a level that no one else could. You would do typical couple things in order to compensate for the lack of stability and domesticity you’ve both had in your lives. Movie nights, designated date nights, cuddle sessions in the late hours of the night, and literally every other cliche there was in the book.

However, you and Natasha were both raised in similar environments. From young ages, you guys were trained to conceal your true emotions and that love was for children. So, communicating with one another was something that the both of you didn’t know how to do.

You didn’t try to communicate and neither did she; and there lied the problem. Natasha would absolutely freak on you if you so much as looked at another person. You would get upset if Natasha went on a mission without informing you first. There were so many pointless arguments that occurred between you and Natasha. Arguments that could’ve been avoided or solved if you guys were able to just talk to each other.

You would say that you guys did talk… just in a higher volume than normal conversation. The yelling between you both could be heard throughout the compound. Most times, you would get so fed up and tired from the arguing, that you didn’t even know why you guys were fighting anymore. It wasn’t healthy and you knew it.

You and Natasha never once told each other the big three words. That was a line neither of you dared to cross. Like the Red Room and The Academy taught you both, love was a weakness and was nothing more than a concept believed by children. You’d like to think that actions spoke louder than words, though.

You could feel the love between you both in the way you would hold onto one another after a mission had gone wrong. You could feel it in the way Natasha worried and panicked when you’d come back from a mission with so much as a scratch above your eyebrow. However, you still could not bring yourself to tell her how you felt. Not that it would matter now, considering you guys had broken up.

It’s been five months since the breakup, and at first your plan of action was to be civil with your ex-girlfriend, but she had other plans. Natasha would bark out snarky remarks whenever you would speak up during team meetings. She began to give you cold glares whenever you walked into a room. God forbid you would even breathe in her direction, she would storm out of a room at the speed of light if you did so.

So, you began to act the same way she was. Okay, yes, it was extremely childish thinking. You should be mature, regardless of how Natasha was treating you, but you couldn’t be civil anymore. So you would treat her just as harshly as she did you. You’d send her sharper glares than she would give you. You’d never listen to anything she had to add during mission meetings, being sure to make it obvious you weren’t paying attention. And you would always counter her hostile comments that were directed towards you.

The team was currently sat in a meeting. You and Natasha were meant to be sent on a mission together, to which you both immediately objected.

“Steve, do I really have to go with that over there? I’d rather go myself and risk dying than go with her.” Natasha pointed in your direction and you were immediately offended by her statement.

“No, I would rather go and die than have to hear one more word out of your god damn mouth. You’re such a bitch.” You spoke as you stood up from your seat, Natasha following suit. Natasha walked across the room and stopped in front of you. She harshly shoved a finger against your chest.

“What the fuck did you just call me? You better take it back before I make sure you never talk again.” Natasha glared at you intensely as she stared into your eyes. You returned her stare with a bored expression on your face.

“I said you’re a bitch. What are you going to do about it, Widow?” You asked her challengingly. Natasha moved to pounce on you, but Bucky, who was sitting next to your spot, sprung in and intervened.

“Let her go Barnes. I’d love to kick her ass.” You smirked as your words only enraged Natasha more. She struggled against Bucky’s grip, trying to free herself so she could pound your face into the floor, but she couldn’t break free.

“Okay! Enough. Natasha, you’re off the mission. Y/N, you’re with me. We leave in 10.” Steve spoke with conviction in his voice, fed up with the pair of you. Natasha stopped resisting Bucky’s hold as he slowly let her go. You looked at her with one harsh glare before you took the mission file that was on the table and walked out of the room. As you left, everyone in the room stared at Natasha. She huffed and stormed out of the room as well.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

You and Steve were currently staked out in a van. You guys were spying on one of the leaders of Hydra and an infamous weapons dealer. The man was currently having a lunch with the dealer. You had been sitting there together for about an hour. You were bored out of your mind and pissed that you couldn’t get Natasha out of your mind. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking about how hot she looked when she pissed. The way her eyes would widen, showing off more of her green irises as her eyebrows furrowed together in anger. The way her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. God, she had such nice boobs.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fury’s voice coming in through comms. “Okay, we evacuated civilians off of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Remember, wait until they’re in front of the alley before you attack. They may have weapons.” Fury informed you both and you looked onto the monitor to confirm the empty street. Sure enough, there wasn’t a civilian in sight; good.

Steve replied with a quick “okay” before movement from the door of the restaurant caught your attention. “Steve, there they are. Move out, now.” You spoke as you loaded your gun and attached it to your hip. You and Steve jumped out of the van. Steve threw his shield and hit both of the men with it. His shield came back to him as if ricocheted off of the men.

Your gun was pointed at the both of them as you guys approached them. “Meeting in broad daylight? Doesn’t seem like a smart move for two supposedly genius people.” You spoke as Steve searched the two men for any weapons. They didn’t have any. That should’ve been a red flag, but you weren’t in the right state of mind right now.

Suddenly, another van pulled up in front of the alleyway, right behind the vehicle you both had just exited. Hydra Agents with semi-automatic guns filed out of the van. Fuck. You guys were set up. Steve shared a look with you before he threw his shield toward the men and knocked the guns out of a few of the agent’s hands.

You began to fire towards the men with your own gun. You shot them in the shoulders, sending them flying to the ground in pain. You and Steve made quick work of the men and soon enough, there were unconscious men littered across the floor.

You and Steve turned back to the two men you had previously captured as they laid on the floor in shock. They really thought their little stunt would work? Pathetic. Unfortunately, one of the Hydra agents was still conscious. You and Steve failed to notice the movement behind your backs. The man pointed a nearby gun at you and fired 5 shots at you. He missed three of them, but managed to land two into your abdomen.

You fell to the ground as Steve whipped around and actually knocked the man unconscious this time. “Fury, we need backup! L/N is down!” He spoke frantically into comms as he applied pressure to your wounds. Your eyes were open in shock as you tried to process what just happened. You were shot. It really did hurt like a bitch. What are those black spots? God, I want Natasha right now. Wait, what? No, it’s just the blood loss talking.

You fell unconscious as soon as the backup S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared on the scene. You were rushed back to the Avengers Compound in one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s vehicles, Steve following you after ensuring the two men were detained. As soon as the car made it to the compound, your unconscious body was placed onto a gurney and you were being rushed to the medical wing.

As your body was being rolled through the halls of the compound, you were pushed by the doctors past Natasha. She did a double take and quickly turned around to confirm what she had just saw. Her heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of your limp, blood-covered body. She ran after you without a second thought, fear and dread taking over.

Natasha tried to enter the medical wing where they had just taken you, but she was stopped by a strong hand abruptly placing itself onto her shoulder. “Nat, we need to let them take care of her. We’d only be disturbing them and we need their focus to 100% be on Y/N.” Steve said in an attempt to convince the redhead to stop her plan of barging into the room like a madwoman. Natasha took one last glance at the door before she heavily sighed and walked to the wall across the door. She slid her back slowly against the wall and placed her head in her hands.

“What happened, Rogers?” Natasha asked, afraid of hearing the answer. Steve went over the events of the mission, and all Natasha could think was that she should’ve been there with you. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet to save you in a heartbeat because she loved you. Wait. She loved you? Holy fuck! She loved you!

Natasha’s heart rate increased rapidly at her self revelation. She has loved you this entire time. God, she was so fucking blind. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was madly in love with you. She let the things the Red Room drilled into her affect your relationship. Now, she wasn’t sure if she’d have the opportunity to make it up to you. That thought scared Natasha more than any mission ever could.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

1 hour later

An hour later, and the entire team was sprawled across the hallway of the medical wing. Wanda sat beside Natasha on the floor, comfortingly holding her hand. The rest of the team just stood, anxiously and impatiently waiting to hear about your status.

At the sound of the medical bay door opening, Natasha shot up from her spot on the floor and looked towards Helen Cho. “What’s her status? Is she okay? Did she make it?” Natasha immediately fired off questions at the Doctor. The team stood firmly behind Natasha as they looked at Dr. Cho, their eyes asking her the same questions Natasha did.

“She coded on the table a few times. The bullets hit some major arteries, but we managed to stop the bleeding. If she had arrived even a minute later than she did, she wouldn’t have made it.” The relief of the good news radiated off of earth’s mightiest heroes. Natasha almost let tears escape her eyes, but quickly blinked them back.

“Can I see her?” Natasha asked desperately. “Yes you can, but shes still asleep. The anesthesia was very strong so she’ll be out for a few more hours.” Helen spoke as she opened the door for Natasha. She entered and let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. Natasha grabbed a nearby chair and placed it right beside your bed. She lightly stroked your hair before she gripped your hand.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

3 hours later

You groaned as you slowly open your eyes and were met with an obnoxiously bright light hovering over you. You heard some shuffling before the light was shut off. You turned your head towards the other person in the room and you rolled your eyes at who it was.

“If you’re here to be an asshole, please leave. I’m not in the mood for it.” You spoke as you watched Natasha sit back down in the chair next to your bed.

“I’m not here for that. I wanted to apologize, Y/N. You were right, I was a bitch. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, but I was just afraid.” Natasha began to speak as she seemingly appeared nervous. You’ve never seen her nervous before, you’re pretty sure no one ever has.

“I was so terrified because I love you. Everyone I love ends up leaving me, and I couldn’t watch you leave me. So, I thought it was best if I beat you to the punch.” Natasha looked down to her lap and played with her fingers absentmindedly. Your eyes widened as far as they could go at Natasha’s words. She loved you. She actually, verbally said it. That’s a huge fucking deal.

“I know my logic may not make the best sense, but what does make sense is the fact that I love you. I always have and I was just too stupid to tell you. I’m sorry, I love you so much.” Natasha spoke as she tore her gaze from her hands and up to your eyes.

You reached your hand out for hers and she shakily took your hand in hers. You almost let out a gasp at the contact, you missed her touch so much. “I won’t ever leave you, Natasha because I love you too. I’m sorry too. I was just as afraid as you were. We were both stupid.” You let out a little laugh at your last words. Natasha let out a chuckle as a tear fell from her eyes. Oh god, you’ve never seen her cry either.

“You scared me. I thought you weren’t going to make it. When I saw your body being wheeled down here…. all the blood… I-“ Natasha words were cut off as you smashed your lips against hers. You winced as the pain from your gunshot wounds radiated across your body, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that the woman you loved, loved you too. You’d never be afraid to express your love for her ever again.

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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imagines-mha · 3 years

Text

⭒ haikyuu x exam season ⭒

Daichi- when i say he is the MOODIEST person when studying. It’s all fun and games until you interrupt him one too many times and he fucking explodes. Needs 2 chill

Suga- his goal in life is to be an aesthetic studyblr like this man will go and get iced coffee, order the prettiest stationary and then spend 20 minutes organising it for his instagram. As for ACTUALLY studying? He’s amazing at it. Literally the person we all aspire to be

Asahi- anxiety crams before tests. He does more than like 70% of his classmates but is always convinced he’s fallen behind on everything. Cries a LOT when he doesnt understand smth

Noya- another one who cries only he does it SO easily. Personally victimised by anything past question 1. Gets literally everyone to do his work for him

Tanaka- tries so hard he really really does. His handwriting is a mess and his notes look like something a 7 year old would do. Gets everything wrong but doesnt let it stop him

Ennoshita- did someone say pretentious straight A student??? Offers to help his friends just so he can flex his pretty notes and intelligence. Seems like he has everything under control but really? He cries like once a night in the lead up to exams

Kageyama- he doesnt have any room for anything in his head that isnt volleyball. Hes hopeless

Hinata- LACKS COMMON SENSE SO BAD. He’ll finally understand EVERYTHING but write the answer in the wrong place or leave out a decimal place in the exam. Stupidest mistakes

Tsukishima- he sticks to a study schedule like what? Who tf sticks to a schedule? Doesnt like to flaunt his grades around anyone who isnt hinata and kageyama, but akiteru and his mom are 100% the type to post his grades all over facebook like “so proud of my son !!!!!!”

Yamaguchi- the king of saying he hasn’t done much for exams, but then stays up every night til 2am studying. He HATES people having any expectations of him so keeps all his preparation secret lmao.

Kuroo- hes smart and he flaunts it so bad. 100% a teacher's pet, especially for science. Around exam season he lives in the library. Motivates kenma to study with him too tho hes so supportive

Kenma- hes naturally smart, which is like 70% of the reason his grades are good bc he does NOT study. Leaves it all to the night before/ when hes with his friends in the library but other than that nope he doesnt have energy

Lev- doesn't fully register he’s taking a test until he’s 3 questions in and hasn’t written a single word. Then he starts panicking.

Bokuto- he goes through the 5 stages of grief every single time he has to study. Gets frustrated as hell when he cant understand something, gets distracted by everything, a mess. Always leads to him slamming his textbook shut and sulking for an hour

Akaashi- the only one in fukurodani who actually spreads his studying out over the year so he doesnt have to cram. He has pretty notes and diagrams but still gets so stressed smh

Konoha- “yeah ill study in ten minutes” *cue him 6 hours later only starting* studies mostly at night and doesnt care about grades , yet still manages to score really good on every test

Oikawa- if this man is anything he’s dedicated. Actually finds balance between volleyball and studying when exam season’s in full swing, but that doesnt mean he still doesnt overwork himself. Surviving on 40 minutes of sleep and coffee lmao

Mattsun- doesn’t take school seriously at all. Hes like “who cares im gonna die one day” “if i dont know it now ill never know it”. So fucking chill

Makki- tries to be like issei so bad but it fails every time. He’s like “yeah who cares about biology anyway lmao”. He is a liar. He cried for 2 hours over biology last night smh. Biology is actually his number one care.

Iwa- naturally smart and follows a routine. The only healthy studier in seijoh tbh. Motivates his friends so much though hes the only reason mattsun and makki pass smh

Ushijima- sounds pretentious but he doesnt mean it. The worst person to study with because hes so naturally smart and makes everyone feel stupid. Hes like “how do you not understand this? Its easy?”

Tendou- hes so average when it comes to studying i cant even explain it. He goes home and studies, has dinner, watches some anime and studies a little more, then just goes to bed? Never overly concerned about it but hes the best for calming nerves. Makes you really believe things will be okay

Goshiki- CHRONIC WORRIER OH MY GOD. definitely gets the shakes before an exam and almost has a fuckin panic attack every single time, never feels prepared but he really is. Needs tendou for emotional support

Atsumu- too confident in his abilities lmao. He’s like “yeah ive got this i totally know it” then acts shocked and appalled when he fails. Thinks he’s the main character, therefore he HAS to pass. He’s not. And he never learns.

Osamu- the slightly smarter twin yet still not exceptional in any way. Doesnt really care about grades, he knows there’s more to life but still studies enough to pass

Kita- hello mr “whats a failing grade”. Never stresses and never fails. Actually the top of his class in basically everything. Manages to study and still find time for hobbies.

Aone- i am convinced a hug from him would get me through exam season every single year. Another person who just? Doesnt stress? Follows a routine and doesnt mind if he doesnt know something in the test. wow

Futakuchi- “i dont care about exams at all fuck them” *gets 53% and cries*. He doesnt have the patience to study and feels betrayed when all his friends actually do the work

Koganegawa- hes like hinata only he actually passes most of the time. Works SO hard and gets so happy when it pays off!! Always treats himself to mcdonalds after an exam thats self love babie

Terushima- you need to be cautious around this man. He’ll spend every night of exam season partying and ignoring any responsibility, yet still come out with 100% in everything. Where does he find the time? How does that work? What the fuck?

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ziggysims · 2 years

Text

I’m sorry you don’t need to read this post but I needed to vent about my life 🥴

I know I never post on here and nobody knows who I am but I feel like I just need to vent and get my thoughts out in the open and I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to about this. So here goes...

I’m in my final year of my degree and it’s getting to the point that after this year, I’m going to have to enter the work force in a field I’m not interest in anymore.

I found University was my crutch, as I could rely on having three years more years of schooling after high school before I became a ‘real adult’. I thought that by the time I graduated I would have evolved and would have been ready. However, I don’t think anyone was expecting a Pandemic to happen in 2020, which has seen my past two years of university basically be online and created this bubble were I did nothing with my life.

Which is we’re my issues lie. I’m not interested in my degree or the opportunity’s it will lead too, I’m at the stage were I am applying for work experience and nothing I see interests or motivate me. I feel like I’m just making things up whenever anyone asks or questions me about after I graduate. It also doesn’t help that anyone I talk to in my degree has somewhat of a plan on what they want to do after graduation where as i have no plan or direction in life.

I have five major issue at the moment

1. I’m pretty sure I’ve f*cked my courses up and have not been doing the correct subjects and I probably won’t graduate when I wanted too. So there’s that 🙃

2. I’m not interest in my degree anymore or the careers and opportunities it offers. I also feel like I’m the only one without a plan and given that I have not made any friends in uni except this year. I’m trying really hard to continue these relationships however I’m always having to put a mask on and be someone I’m not which includes not telling people certain things about myself. This is where the third problem comes from...

3. I have no work or life experience. I have been privileged to have the parents I do and I love them very much and they have continued to support me no questions asked but I feel like a failure 😞 I’m almost 22 years old and I have never had a proper job as I have been a family caregiver for my mum since 2017 BUT that’s is just an excuse I have been telling both myself and everybody else. I could of had a job if I had tried but I was unmotivated and now I feel likes it’s too late to get a part time job anywhere and no one will hire me. Another thing that has hindered me is the fact I don’t have a drivers license, I have a lot of anxiety around driving so I’m still incredibly dependent on my parents. However, I’m current working on that and doing driving lessons but I still have a long way to go and I feel extreme anxiety when thinking or applying to job as I keep getting rejected or I never hear back from the job application.

4. Moreover, I know this is not a common wish and people have been trying to break out of this lifestyle but honestly I just want to work a boring 9 -5 office job doing nothing but writing emails, attending meeting etc and nothing else. I feel like I’m not smart enough for anything and that I have faked it through my ability to do assignments but it always entails a lot of editing and rereading. Also I feel really dumb all the time as my spelling and math is atrocious and I feel so insure in myself and my abilities. The reason I want a basic 9 - 5 is just having the life style of waking up early in the morning, going to work, coming home, having dinner and relaxing the rest of the night doing hobbies such as reading, sims and watching tv shows and having weekends off consistently to spend time doing things that interest me and having holidays maybe once a year. That’s the structure I want in life and I feel like I can never admit to that because I would of wasted me degree on nothing.

5. Lastly, this issue has nothing to do with my degree or lack of work experience but about my own confidence or lack there for and has been playing on my mid for years now. In terms of my body… I HATE it. I’m fat there is no other word for it, I weigh around 116kg and even if I try and tell myself I look pretty or not that big in the mirror as soon as I see myself in a reflection in public or photos of my self I’m horrified with how big and disgusting I really am. Ever time I leave the house I feel nervous and anxious I I constantly have to make efforts to look better and dress better then people would just to do basic things like grocery shopping. I feel judged whenever I’m in public and find that I can never order to much food or buy to much food if I’m buy myself. I also cannot shop at any normal clothing stores and feel constantly uncomfortable and unsure whenever I have to buy clothes in person. I did lose 15 kilos last year but I lost the motivation and have put nearly all of it back on. I struggle so much with weight loss as to lose any weight with my metabolism, I have to eat very little and work out constantly to see any results. However, I can’t work out in a gym as I’m still to self conscious and as i don’t live by myself I can’t control what food is in the cupboard. I know these reasons just sound like excuses, which they probably are… but food to me is such a big part of my life. I eat when I’m bored and given that I don’t have much of a social or work life I’m constantly at home except for University so I’m always snaking. I also struggle with motivation and being consistent with working out which hinders may ability to lose weight. Now, why is this such an issue? because being over weight has stopped me from doing everything and not have confidence in my self has lead me to have many regrets in life. As soon my old friends and I became 15- 16 my life started to change drastically. I wasn’t invited to parties other than birthdays and didn’t have those fun teenage years except a few occasion which I always longed for. Furthermore, I’ve never kissed or had sex with a guy and have never really talked either online or in person much at all to any guys either, I also have never had a friendship with any males my age what so ever. I feel so left out of everything people my age are doing and I never go on social media anymore, as every time I open either Instagram, Facebook or Snapchat I just feel immensely sad and insecure. Every time I open social media all I see are people from my high school doing something with their life whether that be graduating university, travelling, hanging out with friends, being in long term relationships etc I’m struck in the same place doing the same things I was going when I was 16 years old and I feel like I haven’t experienced-life and I have let go of so many opportunities or stopped myself from putting myself out there and doing things I want to do because of my weight and insecurities. Because I have isolated myself from the world even before the pandemic I’ve lost a part of myself and my personality and I have become boring and have nothing interesting about me that would make anyone stay.

I’m just a fat, ugly, boring human being who is full of regret and has wasted their life being fat, not doing anything, doing a degree I’m not interested in anymore, having no social life and not have any life experience in general.

I’m just fucked and at a point in my life we’re I don’t know what I’m going to do…

So thats everything I know nobody is really going to care but I feel like I needed to get this off my chest as it had been playing in the back of my mind the past few months and years to be honest and going into my final year has just pushed me passed the breaking point and added more stress onto the fact that I’m unhappy with the way my life has turned out 😞

So thats me....

#sorry for the rant #rant post #personal vent #possibly triggering #i’m so tired #tw weight #weight loss #struggle #i hate my body #i hate it here

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sleepy-belphie · 4 years

Note

Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me reader insert #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #Anonymous

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howdoesagrapewrites · 3 years

Text

All yours, Babooshka.

Tags: Yelena x fem!reader, soulmate!au, fluff with a bit of angts, historically completely incorrect, happy ending.

TW: depiction of war, brief mention of sex, homophobic slur a few times, suicide.

Synopsis: War is no place for loving, it never was, but maybe you could love her again in the 21 Century, i mean, only if you could stop feeling so overwhelmed by her only existence, but no matter what, you can't stop something that's meant to be.

Notes: one, i don't like the part 4, it just feels lazy to me, and two, i'm not a native, so please tell me if i made a mistake <3

Part one: When she was beautiful.

Yelena Armanovna, as strong as ten soldiers, the jewel of the battlefield, once was just a kid, her land was destroyed by the war, and as the only child of the house, she was forced to join the army, or else die there, she became a soldier, and she desired that the war wasn't real, that she hadn't being born into this world, that no one had.

Everyone knew that she didn't talk a lot, most of their fellow soldiers didn't even knew where she came from, or if she was even from Russia, the only one she talked to was a nurse, her name was y/n y/ln, and like Yelena, no one knew about her origin, the nurse was way more talkative than Yelena, but she was assigned to other areas, staying with older soldiers, child soldiers, or severely injured soldiers, she was called by the child soldiers "angel", because of her comforting aura in hard times like those.

These women wouldn't be able to meet eachother if it wasn't for the near-death experience Yelena faced one time. She got shot by a hidden enemy, fainted from the blood loss and was taken to the nursery right away, they couldn't afford to lose her. That's when you saw the look in her eyes, that look, and you knew that death was upon the jewel of the battlefield, and you knew that if she died, everyone else will die, you tried as hard as you could to stay cool during the surgery, but you were breaking, because of all the hope that was layed on her shoulders, she was the hope of everyone else in that place to return home someday, even if Russia didn't won the war, her strenght will keep a few alive. So there you were, assisting the surgery of the one that could do something to keep everybody safe and triying to act like it didn't meant a thing. At the end, she survived, and with her, the dreams of returning to your home, you were the one assigned to take care of her, and you were going to make sure Yelena survived.

Part two: Uncanny how she remind her of her little lady.

—"¿Yelena Armanovna?" You asked to the blonde girl laying on the bed.

"Yes" she answered without taking her deep eyes out of the book.

You told her that it was your bed she was in, pointing at your last name on the post-it next to the bed, then showing her the same mark on the bed across the room where it said: "J. Armanovna".

"Ah, i hate when they misspeal it, it's Yelena with a "Y". Well, sorry, but this is the only bed i can sleep in, i'm kinda tall, you can use mine, i will give you a cookie for your kindness." She concluded with a little smile, you notices how her voice was way sweeter than you could think considering how menacing her looks were.

At the end you decided to let her keep the bed, thinking it wouldn't mean anything, how wrong you were, now you could look at her sleeping without moving from the bed, and you did it, you thought it was so creepy and you wanted to stop, but you couldn't, why? Why were you obsessed with the sight of her closed eyes and dry lips at night? Why did she gave you this insane feeling of comfort and loss at the same time? It was so uncanny.

No matter how weird It felt, you couldn't escape from Yelena, she was your roommate, and your classmate in some of your classes, on top of that, she was quite nice, a very smart lady with a pleasent personality, so you had no excuse to be mean or distant whenever she asked about your day, or started a small talk when the professor was late. Along with that sort-of friendship, you also knew Yelena's group; a beautiful girl with raven hair named Pieck, a blonde sarcastic man named Zeke, sometimes his brother Eren, and Hanji, a very excentric and funny person. These people were good friends to you, more than you expected, and that confirmed you: there was nothing wrong about Yelena, and you had no reason to be disturbed by her… Well, to be honest, there it was a little thing that made you upset, Pieck said that Yelena liked Zeke, again, you had no reason to be mad, but you were anyway. Why did you felt so attached to this lady? Why did you did what you did?

It was 2:00 am, you couldn't sleep and you were so ashamed of being doing what that thing, what thing? Writing a love letter, a love letter to Yelena, with a pseudonym, with the first word that popped into your head: "Babooshka". You put perfume on the paper, and you signed it under that name, a scented letter, when you were finished, you let the envelope under your bed, and let it on Yelena's locker.

Part three: How she was before the tears.

She woke up, feeling dazed and almost disappointed for being alive, when Yelena saw you, she recognized you for the stories of her colleagues, "Angel?" She guessed.

"Hello", you smiled and giggle a bit for that nickname, "My name is y/n y/ln, and i will take care of you until you are better"

"If i'm with you means i'm already dead, you only take care of the ones that are almost there." Yelena asserted with a careless attitude.

You wanted to protest, but it was meaningless, you wouldn't make her upset in her state, "May i ask how is your wound feeling? Are you in pain?" You kept that polite and sweet smile on your face.

You kept taking care of Yelena, she healed way too soon, her body wanted to stay alive, but you couldn't say the same thing about her. You got to meet the real jewel of the battlefield, she told you her story, and you told her yours, you two knew everything about eachother, likes, dislikes, and sad pasts. You noticed how Yelena cried softly whenever she thought about her life before, her life before the tears, before the war, when she felt happy. And you also noticed that you could erase that tears, the touch between your soft hands and her ser face, was something magical, something that nobody could understand in that moment, but you two? You knew everything about it, about that love touch, those secret beautiful instants you shared.

You were the one crying when Yelena got better, you were joyful for her recovery, but you knew that she had to go, and after that, you were going to lose her forever, or so you thought. "We can send eachother letters, and we can meet at night." She reassured you while you were laying on her chest, skin to skin, she kissed your forehead and caressed your cheeks with her strong and graceful hands, you purred at her cuddled your body in hers, you liked to kiss her scars, she had so many, it showed how determined she was on the battle and you liked that, the eyes and body of a soldier, and the heart of a suave lover, Yelena was always elegant, her movements could been rough and beastily, but she was soft and neat, whether i'll be fighting, talking, or embracing you. You could say with pride that only you knew this side of Yelena Armanovna, the subtle dominance she always established on her manner mixed with the chivalry and dulcet, that made the blonde woman truly enticing and amusing to anyone with enough luck to discover it.

You knew that your letters to Yelena couldn't be too suspicious, so you took advantage of the fact that no one knew a thing about her, "Babooshka", was the pseudonym you choose, because everyone was going to think that it was from Yelena's grandmother.

Your first letter to her, was this one:

"My dearest Yelena, even though i promised that i wouldn't miss you too much, you have been away for three days and i'm already feeling the lack of your touch, and missing your dark eyes that make me shiver every time. I always thought that i would die without having loved, but you prove me wrong, i love you, i love every part of you, if i could picture perfection, it would be you, your laugh, your hair, the way you talk about home, everything about you would fit the word "perfect".

I swear to God and every star on the sky, that someday i will marry you, someday i will call you my wife, and you will be fully mine, and i will be fully yours. I know that you may think i'm silly because of this wish, but i know in my guts that i will become your wife, no matter how many years or Centuries i have to wait to do it.

All yours, Babooshka."

When Yelena read the letter, she felt nothing but joy, she couldn't use words to describe how in love she was with everyone of your words, and giggled at the idea of marriage, of course she would marry you, she would marry you all the times that she could, she will make you hers every time, and she would submit herself to you every time.

The two lovers kept sending and receiving love letters, and meeting at the comfort and hacen of the night, with only starts and the moon herself as a witness, sharing the intimacy of loving, not always touching two bodies, but the touch of two souls, two tormented souls who found love in a hopeless place.

It has been almost a year since the letters and secret meetings started to happen, Yelena and y/n couldn't be more in love, but tragedy was upon them. A soldier named Floch, started to notice the letters, and one day, he intercepted one, the love words were obviously not from Yelena's grandmother, and with fear of the jewel of the battlefield getting courted by a man who could get her pregnant and useless, this soldier tried to trace the letters, he spend days getting up triying to catch the mailman, and when he did it, he noticed that there wasn't an adress, so it must have been another soldier. After waiting for the guilty one to put the letter on the mail box, he saw y/n y/ln, the nurse, the angel, being a witness of how Satán corrupted the two women into a sapphic relationship, he ran into his superior's arms, showing him the evidence and warning him that given the nature of the letters, he may be grossed out by the devil's pervertion in the two women.

The superior gave orders of keeping Armanovna here, and taking the nurse away, into a convertion field.

Yelena was lucky to hear it, and she ran the fastest that she could into the critical patients nursery, where Y/N was. "Babooshka", she whispered at your ear while grabbing your arm yo take you away, you followed her into the woods. "What happened?" You asked with confution, you saw the look of pure fear un Yelena's eyes.

"They are going to tear us apart, they are are going to take you away, they will torture you there", she was ay the edge of crying, and so did you.

"What can we do?" You couldn't think anything, you were all feelings

"Die, that's our only option, if we run away they will find anyway." The tall one tried to stay calm, failing

"You can't die, you mean hope for everyone!" Your conscience was heavy, you couldn't let Yelena die for you

"Y/n… You are the love of my life, if they take you away, i will kill myself anyway, i can't live without you, i can't just survive anymore, i need to live, when i'm with you i'm alive." Yelena wrapped you in a hug and you felt the tears falling on her face.

At the end, you agreed, Yelena already had a little bottle hidden in her uniform, you both took sips until the bottle was empty, and you kissed and felt eachother like never before, because it was the last time, those were your last hours of life. You passed away after two hours, you were sleeping in Yelena's arms, while she was singing a lullaby from her hometown.

She started with a cracked voice; "I know i do not have silver or gold like many others,

but i promise that i will wrap my bride in silk" she stopped to cry a little.

"and i will love her with such depht,

that all my lacks she will forget,

and she will love until the end… "

Yelena cried louder, and before falling asleep, and looked at your corpse with adoration.

I'm all yours, Babooshka.

Part four: Babooshka

She woke up, ready for the exams, dressed with her usual suit, and put a lucky charm on her pocket.

She was getting to class when she remembered, "my lucky pen is in my locker", so she went to get it, and saw a letter that fell sloppylly on her perfectly organized locker. She looked at the envelope and read "Babooshka", It clearly wasn't from her grandmother, one, because she would have written in "the tongue of mother Russia", two, because she was a bitter old woman that didn't write her, never, not even on her birthday, and three, because it was on her locker, not the mailbox. She opened it go find a love letter that has essence of a known perfume, she received the letter with a strange delight, smelling it and making a place on her locker for the piece of paper.

These letters came one by one every week, and she knew they were from y/n, but Yelena couldn't help to love the letters, and she wanted to keep collecting more and more.

She decided to shoot her shot after two months, when you two were studying together, she kissed your lips out of nowhere, leaving you completely confused and flustered.

"I- i thought you liked Zeke…"

"Oh, i did" Yelena acted so shamelessly "But then you came."

"Do you say that a lot?" You asked annoying trying to shield from your notorious blush

"No, just you, Babooshka. I don't know why, but you make me fee… alive? I feel so close to you since i saw you."

You didn't know what to do, you felt the same way, and you were way too nervous to think a witty reprise.

"Why did you choose the pseudonym Babooshka?" Yelena have been wanting to ask you for a long time.

"For real? I don't know, it just, familiar? I guess"

"Ok, then" she smiled and pulled you closer

"I'm all yours, Babooshka."

#yelena headcanons #yelena #yelena aot #yelena x reader #yelena snk #yelena supremacy #yelena fanfic #aot fanfiction #babooshka #Babooshka songfic

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crispycrimebrulee · 3 years

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hiii! i love your work and I really admire the way you write 💕💖, so I couldn't resist making a request hehe. if it's not too much of a hassle, i'd like 11 or 22 for Illumi, please. thank you very much in advance, i send you a lot of love from Madrid uwuwu 💗💕💞😘 (and sorry for my bad English 😓😭)

your english is wonderful >:( also MADRID!!! I wanna go to Madrid...

[Prompt #22 "Stop Being Seductive!" "I Was Being Myself, But Okay"] [Fluff and a bit of Crack because I couldnt help it]

A Date?

You stood on the outskirts of a private estate, ¾ of the view of the mansion obscured by a hedge of lush green arborvitae rising above a brick wall about twice your height. Not that you would have been able to see much if the obstructions weren’t there, it was the dead of night and the mansion only provided faint specks of light in the distance, with the scattered decorative lamp posts offering faint halos of light every few feet, but still managing to leave you shrouded in darkness.

Frankly, you had no reason to be there; in the mansion, near it, or outside of it. You had been asked to accompany Illumi on a job, and although this had slowly become a frequent occurrence, it always puzzled you every time. The first time he’d asked you, he had essentially appeared in your living room and asked you to come with him “somewhere” and upon asking him to clarify, he followed with again asking you to come with him, this time saying to join him on a job. You had been ready to participate, but he ended up leaving you standing around nowhere near the actual action, and would then return to you after 30 minutes and would bring you home. Now, this had been about the tenth time he’d asked you to join him on a job, knowing very well he’d have you standing around waiting for him. This was only made stranger by the fact that not only did he have someone that he did jobs with (a questionable jester), but you had actually actively participated in jobs with Illumi, so why Illumi had changed your position from job partner to benching you. In his defense, you had failed to ask him why he had been doing this lately, rather, you had been attempting for the last 3 or so meetings to figure it out yourself. There were no logical reasons as to why he dragged you to his missions but his ‘work partner’, as Illumi so endearingly referred to, had once run into you while you were waiting on the sidelines for Illumi and given you a strange bit of insight in passing.

He had questioned why Illumi had you waiting out there all by your lonesome, knowing how much Illumi cared for you. Cared for you? That was an interesting bit of news… Illumi had never made it apparent that he so much as a thought of you other than a work associate, let alone that he ‘cared’ for you beyond that. As this jester had left you standing in the dark, a final passing comment of “what a strange way to bond with someone you fancy” caught you off guard.

A way to bond?

Someone you fancy?

Granted this was Illumi Zoldyck you were talking about, and he was dense like fruitcake in terms of making bonds and connections other than things pertaining strictly to work, but the thought of him fancying you and trying to bond with you made your gears turn.

On your end, you’d done a surprisingly good job at keeping your own feelings towards Illumi at bay, weary about how he would react to the prospect of someone fancying him. You couldn’t really lie to yourself when you thought about him. One would definitely call him strange, which was an understatement in most circumstances, but something about his strangeness and lack of awareness for social cues was oddly endearing. Little quirks about how he liked his tea or the occasional indulgence he took part in, or his particular hair care routine always managed to captivate you. Along with his (albeit something he was at a default) honesty and genuine answers, and his offhand compliments, you struggled to keep yourself together at his awkwardness. Not to mention, he was simply physically stunning, while some would call him rather plain. It might be his plainness that intrigued you, but it wasn’t like it’d be wrong to think so. Even if you felt this way about him, he had no way of knowing, and you had no inclination that it was reciprocated. He’d never made it known about having feelings for you, so you wondered if the two of you were playing an evenly matched waiting game with each other at this juncture.

Why would he feel the same anyway? It’s not like you were eccentric like that questionable jester Illumi was friends with, or that you came from an affluent family of assassins… you provided no value to Illumi other than… company.

“Let's go.”

You shifted your eyes around, noticing Illumi standing beside you, his eyes burning into yours. How long had he been standing there…?

You nodded, picking yourself up off the wall, and began walking back the way you two had come, only for Illumi to stand in front of you and stop you.

“This way.” he pointed behind you and you turned, looking at hazy streetlamps down the way.

“But home is” you pointed past him in the opposite direction, “this way.”

“I am bringing you somewhere. This way.” he turned you around and began walking further away from home with you in tow.

“Where are we goin’ Illu?” you asked, wondering what was past the dark street if anything at all.

“The park,” he answered, still walking, his eyes straight ahead.

Wasn’t it around 1am? What could be at the park at this hour?

Upon arriving at the park, the park was equally as dark as the street by the mansion, and since the scarce lights in the park were so dim, it only served to make the park feel barren, especially with only you and Illumi here.

He’d stopped by a bench situated in front of a small pond, the water gently breaking the silence whilst reflecting soft moonlight, and you couldn’t help but get lost in your thoughts while staring at the dark pond until Illumi called your name.

You didn’t answer, you only let your distant gaze fall on him, taking him in one aspect at a time. Everything, everything was perfect about him, regardless if that was what he was ‘created’ to be or if your thoughts about him made you feel like he was perfect. What had his friend been thinking, “someone you fancy”? Compared to Illumi you were nowhere near perfection, you still had so much work to do on yourself and perfecting your trade, yet the hint that Illumi felt something towards you felt absolutely absurd when you realized what you were up against. Apart from living up to his family's expectations, would you be able to live up to his? Highly unlikely, at least to you.

There you stood, brooding at Illumi who was merely standing there looking stunning, although there was rarely a time he didn’t.

“Y/n.”

Nothing out of you yet again, still brooding.

“Y/n.”

Again, calling out to you like you’d left the scene as he stared at you as you stared at him.

“Y/n you are staring.”

You scowled, finally looking away, huffing as you did so.

“You’re being….seductive. Stop being seductive!” you muttered, attempting to inspect the tops of your shoes.

You glanced at him and he blinked, big eyes holding a sense of genuine confusion as he slowly answered.

“I was not.”

“Yes, you are!”

“I was being myself, but okay y/n.”

You sighed, giving him a glare as you sat down on the bench, feeling somewhat defeated and wholly embarrassed for attempting to call him out… on seductiveness.

“Why’d you bring me here anyways?” you asked, kicking at the rocks on the ground.

“A date.”

You turned your head fast enough you felt the strain in your neck from doing so. Eyes wide and full of confusion, you attempted to string a coherent sentence together all while giving him a bewildered look.

“Date? Now?”

“Yes. This is a date.”

You cocked your head to the side and squinted at him.

As smart as he is, he seems to be as thick as mince when it comes to dates…

“Illumi this isn’t… a date.”

“Yes, it is.”

“We’re sitting in a park, Illu. In the middle of the night.”

“Did you prefer the previous occurrences as dates?”

“What previous occurrences…” you whispered, wondering how he could become vaguer and vaguer with his view of dates.

“My missions.”

“Those were dates?!” you slumped down in your spot, rubbing your face with your hands.

“Were you not aware.”

“Those aren’t dates! You never even asked me on a date!”

“I asked you to come with me.”

“That's asking to tag along! Not a date!”

He was silent for a moment, looking at you with a classically vacant look before speaking up.

“I will take you on a date.”

“That’s a nice sentiment, Lumi, but when? And why?”

“Tomorrow. I like you.”

Slack-jawed but somewhat satisfied (courtesy of his honesty, no matter how jarring) you nodded slowly, wondering if that jester wasn’t so wrong after all.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

He took a seat by you, watching the water as well. You never could tell what he was thinking, and more often than not you’d rather not find out, but whatever those thoughts were now… he seemed calmer, almost or at least at ease. Whether that was due to your acceptance of a (proper) date or not was something you’d maybe find out later, but that was of little concern right now.

The main concern would be finding a last-minute date outfit… and hoping it wasn’t the park during the day.

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

effortlessly, the epilogue (m) || jjk & reader

title: effortlessy, the epilogue pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 5.6k genre: the after high school :) + my infamous poorly written smut a/n: it’s shorter than intended but... it’s out guys! because someone asked me when I planned on posting this and I thought that I was the only one who cared about this epilogue. ;u; Thanks for mentioning it to me, because it motivated me to write it again. Enjoy! series masterlist can be found here

"I want to take care of the planet like Greta Thunberg!"

"Noooo, wouldn't you want to be something cooler? Like a soccer player? How about Lionel Messi?"

"Forget soccer! I want to do something even better... make computers like Steve Jobs!"

One of the children frowns, shoulders slouching in disappointment and frustration of his classmates. Leaning down, you brush away the bangs that cover his eyes, gently pinching his chubby cheeks full of love and care. "What's wrong, Jaemin?"

"I don't want to be like Greta Thunberg or Lion Messi or Steve Work!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air.

"It's Lionel Messi and Steve Jobs, Jaemin!"

"Okay, okay," You say soothingly, hands cupping and thumbs rubbing against the flesh of his cheeks delicately. "That's fine, Jaemin, you don't have to be like those people if you don't want to. You can choose whatever profession you want, and whomever you want it to be like."

"I want to be a swimmer, like Jeon Jungkook!"

"Mm," You hum, tapping your finger against your chin as if you're pondering about Jaemin's idea. "You could, if you'd like. Have you ever met Jeon Jungkook before?"

"No," He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in dismay. "But momma showed me videos of hyung online and he seems like a very kind person." Nodding, your hands fall into the ones of Jaemin's, swaying your arms together to calm his nerves. Children tend to be very emotional, you learn after the many years of experience with them, and Jaemin is no exception. Finding ways to tame their anxiousness was the true challenge. "Want to hear a secret?"

His eyes widen as large as the cartoons he watches on TV. "Yes! What's the secret?"

Pretending to glance out to confirm that the coast is clear and that the other children had walked away to find something more interesting to direct their attention to, you whisper into Jaemin's ear. "Jeon Jungkook was my best friend."

Jaemin gasps. "No way. Your friend? Are you just saying that to me so I can feel better?" Yes, is what you really wanted to tell him, but truth to be told, you weren't lying. Kids were incredibly smart for even noticing that adults would say things to water down the situation, but you weren't just saying anything. "Of course not. Jungkook and I go way back, way before he became a professional swimmer. I used to go to all his practices, hung out with him after them, and even attended classes with him... just like you're in one right now!"

"Do you think... Do you think you can ask Jungkook hyung to come visit us? Maybe? If you're still friends with him..." He drifts, the thought of not being able to see his hero weighing down on his shoulders again. "I'll see what I can do," Standing from where you've been crouching, you ruffle Jaemin's hair with a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Now go play with the other kids. Remember, you can be whoever you want, and everyone else can be whoever they want as well."

Right before the clock hits 3:00PM, you verify that all the little kids are geared up in their beanies, puffer jackets, shoes, and some with gloves, in preparation for their parents' arrival. When the doors open and the children line up, leaving one by one, their nose and cheeks tint pink at the harsh winds, shivering yet at the same time cheering in glee when they see their guardians pull up.

Watching the smiles on their faces reminds you of the time that you hated the winter; brisk air smacking your cheeks in pain, freezing your face in position, fingers stiff from being exposed to the outside, and constant shaking just to warm yourself up in a clownery large winter coat. Yet, this time around, you find yourself fond of the weather, the thought of being able to spend time with your loved ones approaching and activities that could only be done during this specific season.

"Ready to head out?" One of your co-workers asks, just as bundled up as you are, learning your lesson after leaving without a jacket that wasn't thick enough before a day ago. "Yeah, I am. Let me just get my purse first, Naeun."

It's a constant cycle everyday: swipe your transit pass onto the bus, get off, walk an obscene amount of distance, if it's a good day then you'd stop for coffee, get to school, and prep for the day before calling the students in to take attendance, then that's when the teaching starts.

But something about today feels great, despite the snow falling from the sky that nearly has you slipping on the ice from lack of attention to anything in front of you. So, you grab something hot. After all, what's better than a cup of hot chocolate in the morning right before you're stuck in a classroom full of twenty first-graders?

Following your medium sized peppermint hot chocolate (you're rather quite enamored that you're able to find a peppermint flavor because it's your favorite), hopping out of the coffee shop with glee, you're ready to be on route to work again.

Then someone obnoxiously honks their horn.

You show no regard to this, mostly because it makes no sense to. Someone who's driving a flashy neon yellow Porsche is already gaining all the unnecessary attention in the first place, and you're not really in the mood to be categorized within that population.

But the beeping doesn't stop.

Oddly enough, it actually feels like the car is following you. Sweating profusely, you're debating whether or not to glance to see who the driver is. Just then, your phone dings.

jeon jungkook [6:57AM]: i've been trying to get you to turn around for the past 10 minutes, could you please stop walking faster? at this rate you're going to be a runner?

Instantaneously, you stop in the midst of your steps, sharply twisting on your heel to see the owner of the flamboyant vehicle. There he was, with the driver's side window rolled down, exposing those pearly white teeth of his, paired with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Typical.

"Jeon Jungkook, fancy meeting you here."

"Not really fancy if I had to check your location services to see where you've been. It's not fun being ignored, love." He has his arm rested on the opening, watching as you purse your lips and bounce on the tips of your toes. "Mm, wonder why that is."

"Don't be like that," He frowns, chin sitting on his arm. "Come, I'll drive you to work. Maybe we can talk along the way."

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to you at seven in the morning, Jeon."

"Please?" He begs, pools of brown that match the liquid in your cup and the sweetness it entails. Just his voice alone was warm, shooting into your chest and you're trying to convince yourself that it's the drink, not him. "Fine." You respond through your gritted teeth, rounding the hood of the car to enter the passenger seat.

Jungkook looks so happy he could burst.

On the ride to work, you don't talk. He speaks casually, sharing stories about his adventures, ones that you don't really want to hear about or was it that his current attire that's causing your mind to get fuzzy? Baby blue dress shirt with just a couple of the buttons let loose, tucked into those dark grey slacks that hug his thighs so well, that you needed to avert your eyes or else he'd see you checking him out.

He does in fact, to the point that he needs to hide the smirk that dangles on his lips, but he refrains himself because getting you to forgive him is a difficult task alone, and teasing you wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Pull up here," You demand when he's driving by the perimeter of the building. "You don't need to drive into the yard. I don't need the teachers thinking I'm hanging out with someone driving a construction safety yellow car."

Jungkook is admittingly disappointed, hoping that he gets more time with you but he did choose a work day to meet you. "Can I see you after this?" He's suddenly bashful after approaching you confidently earlier, no semblance of high school Jungkook hinted in his personality anymore. "I don't know. Maybe. We'll see." With that, you slip out the car, greeting the parents that you pass by, sharing that beaming smile that he was wishing was for him instead. You're prettiest when you're working—the way you're talking to your students as they begin to line up to enter class, tapping their noses with your drink in hand, drowning in your oversized coat. You seem at your happiest, suddenly regretting his recent absence from your life.

Reminiscing back to the time of when you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, where you wanted to go, and who you wanted to be were questions that were constantly thrown up in the air. He recalls those nights where he'd hear your whimpers through the wall between the bedroom and the living room, sitting at the coffee table in frustration while he prepped for bed. Life had been a crazy journey for the both of you, especially when he had gotten invited to pursue in other work opportunities.

You're thankful when you leave work that day and don't spot the rubber duck colored car anywhere near the schoolyard, yet at the same time, slightly despondent that he didn't return. "You look down," Naeun points out, nose peeking from her scarf with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her jacket. "Expecting someone?"

"Kind of, not really," You confess, letting out a heavy sigh with water vapor in the air. "But not surprised anyways."

"Does it have anything to do with a cheddar cheese looking car?"

Choking on your saliva, you attempt to clear your throat at her recognition. "How'd... you know it had to do with a yellow car?"

She leans over, gesturing in the direction behind you with her chin. "Other than the fact that it's hard to miss a car that bright in the morning, you coming out of it is also attention grabbing. Plus, he's over there, parked in the corner with a swarm of little kids around him."

Flinching, you look in her direction, the sight of Jungkook seated on the hood of his ridiculous vehicle, uncomfortably bending over to reach the height of the flock of little children with their parents, signing autographs and exchanging words with them.

You can't tell if it's cute or making your blood boil.

When you walk over to him with Naeun by your side, he looks up with that annoying smile on his face again. "Jeon Jungkook."

"See, Jaemin? She does know me." Jungkook teases, messing up the little boy's hair. Jaemin has a look on his face that screams nothing but elation, spilling with happiness that couldn't be fulfilled until he met his idol, Jungkook, the Olympian swimmer. "You were right! He is your best friend!"

"I said was, but you get the point." Jungkook jerks up, quickly shuffling to dip his head in the window opening of his car, pulling out a drink, handing it to you. "Would someone who was your friend get you your favorite drink?"

In a medium Starbucks cup, there's an iced cold brew with cold foam sitting on top—a drink that you had grown attached and addicted to in your first year of University, ordering it so frequently on the daily that you had to wean yourself off it. "Cold brew," You clarify, taking the drink gleefully. "I guess you remembered."

Naeun extends her hand at Jungkook, requesting a shake. "Oh my god, Jeon Jungkook, I'm a big fan. I heard that you were recently sponsored by Nike—crazy! She—" She's referring to you with a glare "—never mentioned that she was friends with a professional swimmer!"

"Didn't think it was important," You add, swirling before taking a sip of the liquid gold. "Knowing someone who swam for your country's Olympic team isn't usually brought up in an everyday conversation."

She rolls her eyes as Jungkook gifts her a warm handshake, hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He's dressed for comfort, this afternoon as opposed to this morning, and you're curious of his schedule yet you don't ask. "Kids, time to go home, don't leave your parents waiting." You dismiss the children who whine in reaction. "But we want to talk to Jungkook!"

"I'll be back tomorrow!" He confirms, and they run away in excitement, earning a groan from you. "Tomorrow? You're actually expecting to be back tomorrow?"

"Why? You don't want to see me?"

"Jungkook, why are you even back?" You exasperate, fingers running through your tangled locks. Jungkook is starting to frustrate you and all you want to do is go home and snuggle under the covers while watching a movie while possibly grading some papers. "What's the point of all this?"

He pouts, an arm snaking around your waist to pull your frame close. "I literally came to see my girlfriend and all she does is push me away. Isn't that crazy, Naeun? The girl of my dreams agreed to date me then she pretends that I don't even exist."

Jaw dropped, Naeun can't even formulate a sentence with the new information. "I know what you're going to say next, 'why didn't you—'"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend this entire time? Why didn't you even mention that it was Jungkook! You just faked the entire time that you weren't with someone while I was tricking you into going on dates—"

"You set her up with guys?" Jungkook's brows furrowed at Naeun before looking down at you. "You let her set you up with guys?"

"I didn't go to any of those dates she organized," You mention, bringing the drink to your lips again, truly the only thing that calms your nerves despite the chaos unfolding in front of you. "I vaguely said I wasn't interested."

"You could've just said that you had a boyfriend!"

"Well, you weren't around to prove it, so did it really matter?" Shrugging your shoulders, you escape from his grasp to drag the zipper of your jacket up higher. "Anyways, I'm out. Get home safe, Naeun, let me know how it goes with that mechanic guy tonight." Tugging up your sleeve for a better view of your watch, you nod. "My bus is coming soon—"

"—I'm literally standing right here and you're still going to take the bus?"

"I'm going to take this as my cue to leave..." Naeun chimes in, quickly waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Jungkook-ssi?" And he nods in return, watching as she walks away.

"I can't believe you would just waltz in here like you can do whatever you want." You hiss, nearly squeezing the cup in your hand but the cold brew inside is too valuable to let go to waste. "This is my workplace, not my house."

"I would go to your house if I knew where it was. You turned off your location yesterday."

"Maybe you shouldn't have outed yourself the first time, then you would've known." He moans, pushing his hair away from his face. The length has grown tremendously since the last time you saw him, reaching his chin with the ends curling into the shapes of his eyes when he's gleaming with a grin. "Why are you making things so difficult for the both of us?"

"I'm not." You respond nonchalantly, blinking blankly at the man before you.

Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Then let me take you home, to our home, really, since you decided that you wanted to move out without me here when the lease ended."

"I told you I didn't want to live where stalkers were standing outside my place."

"And I told you that you should call the bodyguard my company said they'd provide for you. Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me?"

Truthfully, you didn't want to go through the complications of the process of getting someone to consistently watch over you on a daily basis—it was easier to just up and leave, find somewhere else to reside instead of getting attacked by his fans. "It was too complex," allowing him to pull you in between his open legs as he rests on the hood of his car. "Plus, why would I want to ask help from a guy who wouldn't even come home for our anniversary? Easier to leave instead of being disappointed all the time."

The edges of his mouth drops. "Don't say it like that. I had to work, or else I would've taken the first flight back home. All the opportunities just so happen to be in the States."

"Go live there then, you don't need to come back. It's convenient for you to find a place there anyway."

"I'm not leaving you, idiot." He counters back, irritated that you're even making such suggestions. "I told you this every single time we meet again, every phone-call, every facetime. I won't move unless it's with you." The look in his eyes is hypnotizing mixed along with his words, swaying you into his direction unless you shake your head from the thoughts, stepping back. "Fine. Drive me home, whatever. Your stuff is still there anyways. I guess you still somewhat live with me."

Jungkook takes this as a victory.

In all honesty, he loves the idea of a domestic relationship. Jungkook loves having to wake up in the morning with you sleeping on the other side of the bed, corners of your eyes filled with dry boogers that'll probably hurt when you decide to get up, and brushing your teeth together, side by side, shoving each other just to be able to spit in the tiny little sink in the apartment. He argues that he could help pay for a better place, but you reject him regardless, wanting to stay in a more affordable place, one where you can go halfsies on.

He misses watching you hover over the stove, obnoxiously monitoring whatever it is you're cooking for dinner, only for him to call you out and take over instead. Or when you're doing work on the floor with your papers and laptop sprawled across the coffee table, leaning back when your shoulders get tired, resting in between his legs with your back against the body of the couch.

So on the route of driving you home, that’s all he can think about as you sit in silence.

This was definitely not the plan.

Parked in the garage of your apartment complex, the fluorescent lights don’t do a good job of piercing through the tinted windows of Jungkook’s car, which you’re super thankful for despite the obnoxious primary color he chooses. The steam fills the glass, hand pressed against the armrest on the door as you’re panting heavily, an uneven match with Jungkook’s. He has a grip on both your ass and hips, guiding as you’re grinding yourself on him, wishing to be closer than you already were.

How he has you out of your jeans is unknown. Your jackets have already been throat into the some-what backseat, your dress shirt unbuttoned with your breasts spilling from your nude bra, and his shirt is hiked up just enough to catch a glimpse of his abs. Swimming requires him to keep his body in shape and there’s no complaint from you on that.

Mouth opened, he let out a groan, feeling your tightness around his cock that made a drop of sweat fall from his forehead. “Fuck,” He curses, the sight of you in front of him clenches his heart. Jungkook thinks you’re so pretty under this light— even prettier than when he knew you in high school, it’s like the longer he knows you, the more infatuated he is. When you gyrate your hips aggressively, he suddenly can’t take it anymore, hands trailing up your spine, pushing you down against his chest before he digs his feet into the carpeted floors, hips piston up into you.

The new angle has your stomach in knots, a soft gasp falling from your lips that only encourages him to go harder. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me,” You respond, and it comes out nearly as a whine but you’re too busy being fogged up by pleasure to even care. “Jeon, please,” Begging at this point, he slips himself between the two of you, thumb rubbing against the bud as your grip on his shoulders clasp firms, lips against the flesh of his neck.

“You’re going to come now, aren’t you?”

The way he says it hints an arrogant smirk, one you’re bothered with but you’re in the middle of something currently. It’s rhetorical, to him, because your pussy is convulsing around his dick that he’s almost reaching his limit yet he waits for you patiently. “I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby,” He manages to say through a heave, your eyes tightly shut closed before you reach your orgasm; a melodic moan finally releasing into his ears that he’s been expecting all night, one that you’ve been holding back to showcase that you’re still mad at him. Jungkook couldn’t care— well, just right now, since he has his dick in you, thrusting away until he hits his own orgasm, ropes of cum coating your swollen pink walls.

You’ve grown limp against his body, nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy but slowed from previously. He misses having you like this, bare and close to him, skin feeling light from post-sex. “I love you,” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up?”

Nodding, you barely have the strength to push yourself off his body, but he doesn’t let go of the grip he has around your mid-frame anyways, sliding the back of the seat up to straighten yourselves. Leaning over to the glove compartment, he snatches a couple tissues before slipping his limp dick out of you, wiping away your mixed come.

When he eventually has the both of you dressed, you lead him into the building, in the elevator and up to the floor of your apartment, cheeks still tinted rosy from the act in the car. Jungkook doesn’t mind it though, he thinks it’s cute that you’re embarrassed.

If this is what it’s going to be like forever— the warmth that you give, despite the words that come from your mouth, the affection and care that you distribute just for him, and the newfound confidence you’ve discovered during college that you’re not afraid of showing him... he wants it. Forever.

“Mm, so you’re telling me that you still fucked him even though you said that you were mad at him?”

Yura is adorable with her little baker’s hat on, working endlessly in the kitchen of her new bakery that she decided to open in Seoul after graduating culinary school. Luckily for you, it’s close enough to your apartment that you found yourself stopping by to visit frequently, stealing the goods that don’t make it out to the display fridge.

“... Possibly. I don’t know. I couldn’t help it— I didn’t get dicked down in forever. And no, don’t talk about using the dildo you gave me last year, I haven’t even touched the thing.”

“What? Nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s meaty, girthy—“

“Oh my god, please don’t continue that sentence,” You wince, palm against your forehead. “It was good, alright? I mean, sure, I finished myself off when I’m alone but yesterday, in the car—”

“You hoe— you didn’t only give your vagina to him, but you gave it to him in the car? You couldn’t even wait, could you? And what now, is he living back at the apartment?”

“I mean... he said he didn’t get a hotel because he wanted to sleep in his own bed again...”

Yura laughs, clapping her hands in amusement as the powder hits her face. “You’re so funny, you know that? Why do you keep playing this charade when you could just... let him back in?”

You sigh, plopping your body down onto the stool by the counters, elbows against the floured tops. Truthfully, caving into all the mistakes Jungkook made was something too common from you, wishing that he wasn’t good with his words and affectionate whenever he’s around you. He missed an anniversary, a 6th year anniversary, and from what you read on the forums online, it’s one of those years where relationships start to get bumpy.

“I just— I don’t want to be easy, you know? I let him get away with everything, and it’s not fair that he’s all the way in the States, doing whatever it is he’s doing, while I’m here, watching twenty to thirty little kids everyday. And I can’t tell him to stop what he’s doing because well— it’s his dream, Yura, who am I to stop him?”

“You don’t,” She responds sharply, glaring at you through her floured lashes. “You should’ve gotten on a plane to the States. It’s your anniversary, as in both you and Jungkook. It’s not his designated job to come here when it’s an anniversary to celebrate the both of you.”

There she goes again, even 6 years later after high school, Yura exhibits the realities of a situation, especially the ones that you’re in.

“I guess...” You say faintly, slowly reaching your surrender.

“No guessing. Please leave and go look for him. Tell him that you’re sorry, that you’re not going to be a big baby anymore. You’ve been with him for six years, and no matter how mad you get at him, he’s always coming back for more and attempting to make it up to you. Also, it’s 6:30AM... shouldn’t you already be on your way to work?”

“Oh, right, fuck, okay, thanks, Yura!” Jolting out of the bakery, you’re practically running to the school when you halt in your route at the sight of the familiar neon yellow car that’s parked on the school yard, yet again.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I’m on South Korea’s Men’s Swim Team. I’m training for 800M Freestyle Swim again, and possibly, maybe, planning to retire soon.”

Retire? The word that slips from Jungkook’s mouth is unfamiliar, mostly because he had never discussed this with you before, causing you to furrow your brows in perplexity at him as he stands in front of the black chalkboard in your classroom full of children.

“I actually lived next door to your lovely teacher here, and we grew up together. She even coached me early in my years since I didn’t have anyone with credentials to show me. We both used to stare at the computer, day and night, renting videos from the library, and spending most of our time together just so that we could improve on my skills...” As Jungkook babbles on to the students, Naeun nudges you in the stomach.

“What?” You hiss in a whisper. Softly, she responds, “You never told me any of this! I thought we were friends! You’ve been hiding from me that you’re dating an Olympian and that you guys knew each other since you were little? What else haven’t you told me?”

“Mm,” You hum, arms crossed over your chest. “I got recruited to shadow coaches back in the university Jungkook and I attended. I rejected their offer and went undecided before coming to terms that I’d teach.”

Naeun is taken aback by all this information, stumbling back to the edge of your desk to regain her balance. “You were recruited to coach? And you rejected that offer? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because swimming is Jungkook’s dream, not mine.”

During college, evidently enough, you had been struggling endlessly trying to figure out what you wanted to do with yourself. There were moments where you considered taking a gap year— a break from it all, go somewhere maybe to finally understand yourself and what you want to do. Jungkook’s eyes when you mentioned it to him grew wary, sad that he couldn’t be there to help you but just stare at your helpless expression through the screen of his phone.

One thing you knew for sure, you didn’t want Jungkook to pity you. (Although, he never did. He was just too in love and couldn’t see the girl of his dreams sad.)

So you pushed harder. Met with people, asked about their experiences, requested for a mentor, and just researched. It was exactly like the time Jungkook told you he wanted to swim, so you obsessively tried to find any information on it so that you could teach him and show him things he could do in the water.

You learned that if you wanted something bad enough, you grew a drive for it.

It might’ve been when Jungkook realized that you were great at coaching. When he tried to sway you into coaching people because you were great and motivating people to do better, to try harder, and all of this without overworking them to the point of turning into dust. Despite everything, you didn’t want to coach swimming— and soon learning, you didn’t want to coach any sport. But the closest thing to it was teaching.

And a teacher was what you became.

There was already enough experience in teaching someone, or in this case, tutoring, because Jungkook sucked at it back in grade school. He always needed help, and that’s where you swooped in. Arms filled with notebooks, backpack dragging you full with textbooks while you stood at Jungkook’s front porch, ready to confuse him with letters and numbers that he learned he didn’t even need now.

“Did you know he was thinking about retirement?” Naeun sneaks in again. You shake your head, watching your boyfriend answer questions from the crowd. “No, I didn’t. He’s never even mentioned that word to me, ever.”

Just as Jungkook finishes, you holler out for the class to settle down, pushing him aside as he bumps back into the wall with a grin on his face. “Ok, class, since it’s 5 minutes before recess, I’m just going to let you guys go off. It is a Friday, so enjoy yourselves!”

Jungkook joins in when you’re zipping up the jackets and tying the shoes of the kids; they’re all too excited for an extra five minutes of recess time, saying something along the lines of, “we should ask hyung to come more often, he makes her happy enough to give us five extra minutes!” and Jungkook stifles a laugh.

Standing against the brick masonry of the building, Jungkook accompanies you. “You’re going to ask me about the whole retirement thing, aren’t you?”

“Was. But you didn’t seem like you cared enough to bring it up to me.”

He sighs, adjusting the beanie on his head. “I didn’t decide until yesterday. I’m going to be in the next Olympics then I’m retiring. I’ve made enough money from the sponsorships and I’m sure I’ll be able to keep my affiliation with Nike ‘til past that.”

Glancing over at him before looking back at the children playing in the yard, you snuggle your nose deeper into your scarf. “Why’s that? Isn’t swimming your dream?”

“It is,” He says, voice genuine and filled with honesty. “I might do some things here and there, maybe train some kid with potential. I just... I don’t know how much longer I can do this thing between us. I’m never going to give up on swimming, and there’s so many opportunities out there for me to do that includes it. But this whole... training for the Olympics thing— I’ve done it already. It’s great, I’ll do another year of it. But by the time the second time I enter, we’ll be hitting that age where it’s time to settle down.”

“We don’t need to have a set time to settle down—“

“I know that we don’t but I’m tired of this whole long distance thing. You’ve been so supportive of my dreams, and I’ve accomplished them already. It’s time that I’m here, by your side, supporting yours.”

There’s silence between the two of you, despite the constant screaming and laughing that’s coming from the playground.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt and he only looks at you with bewilderment on his face. “I should’ve came to visit you on our anniversary instead of expecting you to come here. It was selfish of me.”

Jungkook laughs, beaming brightly with the sweetest smile upon his lips. “You used to be so timid and shy back in high school. You’ve developed into this woman who’s confident and fierce, sometimes scaring me because I never thought you could ever be like this.”

“Does it make you like me any less?”

“No,” He turns to you, tightening the scarf around your neck in prevention of slipping. “But... it makes me love you more. You’re also admitting things and apologizing. Very huge character development if you asked me. Say, how about we go home tonight and celebrate our anniversary, to make up for the one we miscommunicated about?”

“I’d... like that, very much.” You respond, chewing on your bottom lip bashfully.

“Now,” He begins, pinching your frozen cheeks gently. “I told you I love you about... a million times since I came back. I’m still waiting for you to say it too.”

He’s still somewhat the same Jungkook from back then, hidden underneath the blanket of adulthood and experiences through college but nonetheless, just as much as he changed, you’ve loved him through every stage he’s gone through. He felt the same. “Love you too, Jeon.” And there it was, the smile that tugs on the edges of your lips that he’s been waiting for, dedicated just for him.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #gyukultfics #:)

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ur-riddikulus · 3 years

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You’re Worth It (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are the resident therapist for the Avengers and Steve asks you for a favor. He wants you to have a therapy session with Bucky. Then you find out that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of this plan.

Warnings: some cursing, Bucky’s angsty past, a couple small sexual innuendo. Also like a ton of angst but I promise that it does get better lol.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on here. I posted some Harry Potter ones before this, but I reread them and thought I could do better. So, here we are! Thank you for reading and if you want this to turn into more parts, I can totally do that. <3

You had been in your office preparing for your next patient when Steve walked in.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N, can I ask you for a favor?” He asked, putting his hands in a praying motion.

“Yeah, absolutely! I do have a patient soon, though.” You replied. You were glad to help, Steve is a great patient and has been improving impressively. So well, in fact, you didn’t know if he would even need to see you much longer.

“Do you know Bucky Barnes? He’s an old pal of mine. He has been against going to therapy for a long time, but you’ve helped me so much and Bucky needs some help too I think. Plus, he saw you around the tower and thought you were cute.” Steve says.

You blushed at that last part, silently wishing you didn’t. You had a rule against dating any patient or anyone in the tower, since it would just be awkward when you inevitably break up. Every relationship you’ve ever been in hasn’t lasted long, considering you’ve never been able to find someone you truly liked.

“Yeah, of course I know Bucky. You don’t shut up about him during your therapy sessions and I’ve seen him sulking around the tower myself. I would love to help him, but like I said, I have another patient soon. I will only have therapy with him if it’s his choice though. And I think he’s absolutely gorgeous but I have a rule against dating anyone who lives or works in the Tower.” You explained.

You looked at the time, Tony Stark, your next patient, would be here any minute. You were the sole therapist for Avengers Tower. There maybe should have been another one, but Tony had one session with you and said that you were the best he’s ever had and no one would ever dare be a therapist and step into his tower again. He even gave you the title of ‘Chief of Mental Health’ despite being literally the only person in that department.

Steve must have noticed you checking your watch, because he said ,”Oh, and I bribed Tony to change his appointment and give it to Bucky, so you kind of have no choice.”

You looked up, “What? Who knew that Mr. Captain America himself was a cunning little bitch.” You joked, shaking your head. You and Steve, hell, you and everyone in the tower had that kind of relationship. And, he knew you swore like a sailor, so he even ignored it sometimes.

At that moment, Bucky walked in. He looked so handsome with his shoulder-length hair and baby blue eyes. He even looked a little nervous. Well, that’s not surprising, you thought. Everyone, even you, was a tad nervous on the first session.

Steve put up one finger and said, “Let me talk to Buck alone for one moment.” You nodded and he walked Bucky out to the hallway and shut your door. You heard whispers being exchanged and was a little confused but whatever, you thought. You were sure he’s just giving Bucky encouragement.

You went over and sat down on your grey seat and picked up your chamomile tea. That was probably your favorite part of being a therapist, getting to sit down in comfy chairs all day with your tea. Besides helping people of course.

The door opened once again, with Bucky and Steve reappearing. “Thanks for doing this again, Dr. Y/L/N! Bucky will love you.” Steve said, patting Bucky on the back. You smiled and he exited, leaving only a nervous-looking Bucky standing there.

“Why don’t you come over and sit on the comfortable couch across from me, Bucky?” You motion, pointing over to the couch across from your current chair. He nods and goes to the couch. Well, at least he looks a bit more comfortable, you think to yourself.

“So, what do you want to talk about? Anything is on the table.” You say. You’ve found that not going straight to the tough topics help patients build their trust with you more.

“Well, doll, how about you tell me about yourself first.” He says, getting a bit more confident now. Doll? That’s an odd name to call your therapist. But whatever, you’re sure they used it a lot in the old days. Letting it slide, you try to answer his question.

“Well, I was born and raised here in New York City. I got my PhD. in psychology from NYU and I have an apartment in Brooklyn. I got this job after only one session with Tony Stark and now I am the therapist for the Avengers.” Sure, it was a lot of work, but you absolutely loved your job. Helping the heroes who risk their life to save yours and everyone else’s was the least you could do, you thought.

Bucky nodded and said, “I’m from Brooklyn. Looks much different now than it did when I lived there though. A PhD.? Damn doll, you must be super smart.”

You smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth all the late nights studying.”

“So, anything else you want to know about me before we get started?” You asked, getting your notebook to prepare to write notes about Bucky and how to best help him.

“Get started? Damn, doll. I was thinking we could grab a coffee before we ‘get started.’ But it’s good with me, I guess the girls roll a little different in this time than the 40′s.” Bucky says, chuckling to himself.

You were in the middle of getting to the correct page in the notebook but paused when you heard what he said. What did he think you meant when you said ‘get started’? It sounded very different from your meaning. And getting coffee? It almost sounded like he thought this was a date? You shook your head at that thought. No way could he possibly be that confused. And Steve said he thought you were cute, but you seriously doubted that the Bucky Barnes would even consider going on a date with you. So no, it definitely couldn’t be that. But whatever he thought this was, there was obviously a miscommunication that you had to clear up.

“Uh, Bucky? I think you must be confused. Steve told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me this afternoon. What did you think this was?” You ask, a little scared of the answer.

At hearing this, Bucky seemed very confused. “What do you mean, Steve told me that we were meeting here before going out on our date?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. What does he mean by ‘our date’?

“Uh, Steve never said to me that we were going on a date. He told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me...” You said, shaking your head in confusion. This made no sense, what was going on?

Apparently that was the conclusion Bucky just got to as well, because he looked up, a little embarrassed and said, “I’m so sorry. Steve told me that you wanted to go on a date with me and that we were going to meet in your office before going out. I never would have agreed to this if I knew what he was really doing. I’m just going to leave, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” Bucky raced his hand through his long hair and stood up, walking to the door.

At first, you were a little stunned. The Steve you knew, the world knew, would never pull a trick on anyone, especially his best friend. You knew him enough through your sessions to know that he would only do this if he absolutely had to. Which means he must be desperate for his friend to get the mental help he needed. Also, Bucky was just so damn cute and you have had the biggest crush on him ever since you went to the Captain America exhibit in the local museum for a school trip. You always saw him in the pictures with Steve, his heart-stopping smile still doing wonders on you despite the worn black and white photo.

So, you jumped up right when his hand touched the door handle to leave and probably never see you again. “W-Wait!” You said, hating your stutter but just cringed and kept going when you saw him turn around curiously. “While you’re here you might as well just talk to me. If you hate it, you never have to see me again and can just ignore me in the halls. But, if this session does help you, maybe we can schedule a bit more and see where it goes. I really think I can help you, Bucky.” After you finish your awkward speech, you just smiled and waited for his definite and irreversible no. Well, at least you got the chance to help him, you thought.

He just sighed and shrugged saying, “Well, I’m already here I guess. But are you sure this could end at any time and that you even want to help me after my dumb friend tricked me into embarrassing myself?”

You smiled and that last part and smiled, just grateful for the opportunity to help someone so burdened and has done so much for the world.

Bucky walked back over the his chair and said, “So, Doc, how do we start this?”

You grabbed your notebook again and turned to the right page again. “This is your session, it can start with however you want. But it might help to start from the beginning. How did you feel when you got drafted into a World War when you were only 18?”

He looked deep in thought and said, “Wow, no one ever asked me that.” He sighed before adding, “Of course it was my duty to fight and all that, but I was angry at the world for forcing kids who just barely turned adults to fight their wars for them. I knew it was going to be an adventure, but honestly I was scared shitless, doll.”

You nod, your empathy for him skyrocketing even though you guys just started.

And that’s how your bi-weekly sessions with Bucky would usually go. You guys talked about a whole manner of things, like his past in the 1940′s, his brainwashing with HYDRA, Steve saving him, and his nightmares from everything included. You two were closer than you normally let yourself get to patients. You didn’t know if it was because of everything he had gone through, or maybe even that you finally got to talk and help the Avenger who needed you most, but you honestly didn’t care. Your sessions with him really seemed to help him and now he hasn’t had a nightmare in over 2 months. Bucky seemed a lot happier and waved and talked to you in the halls. Steve even said that he hasn’t seen Bucky like this since the 40′s. You thought that with all things considered, he had a ton of improvement. You two had only been meeting for about 6 months and his progress was truly great;

You tried to forget that in your first meeting he thought you were going on a date and even apparently called you pretty. You knew that nothing romantic should ever come out of your patient and therapist relationship since it was obviously wrong. Every therapist knew that under no circumstances should you date your patient. It would always hurt the patient’s mental health even more and that was the opposite of your job. You suppose it could technically happen if you stopped being his personal therapist but it wouldn’t be worth it. All of his hard work would have been for nothing.

But you couldn’t help but think what if? What if it ended up working out? What if he got another therapist and you could date him? What if he was the one? But no, you were getting ahead of yourself, you thought. Bucky was great and handsome and so, so perfect. He was honestly everything you wanted in a partner. And still, you couldn’t take the leap. If it didn’t work out and you were possibly the reason his mental health got worse you could never forgive yourself. So every appointment with him you just smiled and tried to ignore that pressing need, even though you were beating yourself up for either being a coward or for being so selfish that you wanted to take that chance.

One day you were in the middle of researching new ways to help a client’s recent mental health issue and trying to (and failing) ignore a certain issue when Bucky walked in with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a nervous look on his face. You stood up, very confused but nonetheless making yourself known.

“Uh, Y/N? Could I maybe talk to you for a minute?” He asked. You’ve never seen him dressed so well. Normally he just wore either workout clothes or sweatpants. You two even often joked together that he owned no normal clothes.

“Yeah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a session today.” You said, cursing yourself for making such a mistake. Usually you were pretty good with schedules, even though working with the entire compound was a bit much to remember.

“Oh, we don’t. I just wanted to ask you a question.” Bucky said, biting his lip. A nervous tick that you soon discovered in one of your early sessions together.

“Sure, ask away.” You replied. You were getting a little worried. Surely he didn’t want to end your appointments together, right? Did you do something wrong?

“First of all, these are for you.” He said nervously as he handed you the flowers. You smiled, surprised that he remembered you telling him your that your favorite was y/f/f while complaining that the local florist didn’t have them during one of your bi-weekly meetings. “Thank you, these are absolutely beautiful. I love them.” You smiled and walked over to a window ledge with a vase on it and put them in, admiring how they looked in the sunlight.

When you were finished admiring them you walked back over to Bucky. “Thank you again, they really are beautiful. I don’t even remember the last time someone was so nice and got flowers for me.” You said and hugged him. You knew he wasn’t that great with personal touch but surprised you when he hugged you back pretty quickly. For a moment you just focused on being in his arms but then soon thought of how inappropriate it would look to an outsider and reluctantly pulled away.

“So, what did you want to ask? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly remembering that something could be wrong with him.

“Yeah, of course everything is fine. You truly are a great therapist, Y/N. You’ve got a gift.” Bucky said. You blushed at his words and hated that your color would give away your inappropriate feelings possibly. His words did calm you down though. But if it wasn’t about therapy, then what else could it be about?

Feeling your blush go down finally, you nodded and urged him to go on, now too curious to wait it felt like.

He sighed and nervously ran his hand through his hair. “You have to promise me that if this goes wrong, our relationship won’t be ruined. It’s too important for me to ruin by being an idiot.” You immediately promised. Normally you would be cautious about such a thing but you have never trusted anyone this quickly and this much with Bucky.

After he saw your quick agreement, he went on. “So, these past couple weeks, well since we’ve started meeting actually, I was interested in you. I was never going to act on it in a million years but you’ve helped me so much and I think we could really be great together. And Steve might have noticed me staring at you and telling me I should do something about it.” He chuckled. “So, want to go on a real date? I would go the whole 9 yards, nice restaurant and everything. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do and know that our relationship isn’t necessarily the easiest to become romantic. I just think you're worth it, doll. You're worth all of it.” He stopped and bit his lip again, waiting for your response.

Your heart soared when you heard his speech. No one had every made you feel this way. You were about to say yes, so close in fact, but then you remembered the real truth. You are his therapist, his doctor, his advocate. That was special and meant something to you. You knew he wanted this but it was your responsibility to make the hard choice, to do what you honestly hated to do but thought was right.

“No, Buck. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just think it could ruin all your hard work and that’s the last thing that I want to do. It just shouldn’t be risked.” You said. Telling him that felt like vomit was coming up and you felt even worse when you saw him look dejected and lose his smile so quickly because of you.

You moved your arm to touch his and try to support him the best you could within your boundaries but he saw you trying to do it and moved before you could touch him. And that really hurt.

You opened your mouth to try and say that you wanted to say yes, that it wasn’t him and just your job but he put up his hand to stop you and said,”No, I shouldn't have asked, I’m sorry.” before walking out.

After the door shut you just closed your mouth in surprise of how this could all go so wrong before falling on the ground and just sobbing. You were hyperventilating soon and snot was going everywhere but you just didn’t care. You were the therapist, the one who knew all the mental health tips and tricks but you were too broken to think logically and it felt good to just let yourself cry.

This stayed the same for two straight weeks. Bucky rescheduled every meeting and put himself into more missions, especially the more dangerous ones. You would cry yourself to sleep nearly every night and by the morning, your eyes were really puffy and swollen from the night before. Everyone in the tower knew something was going wrong and you could feel their stares of sympathy and worry. You felt terrible but what felt even worse was that you weren’t even speaking with Bucky anymore. And as bad as you felt, you couldn’t help but be even more worried for him. You were prepared to just wallow in your own self-pity and cry for the nth time when Steve knocked on the door and walked in when you were in your office, just drinking chamomile tea and looking at the flowers Bucky got you.

“Hey Doc, how’s it going?” He asked, sitting down and looking worried. You just looked up at him and decided to finally cut the shit and get right to what you were worried about. “Steve, how’s Bucky? And tell me the truth, I’ll find out eventually.” Steve sighed and said, “Honestly he’s not doing great. He looks like crap and is throws himself into missions. Bucky also keeps taking stupid risks that could leave him wounded or even worse. We’ve all spoken with him and he just ignores it. I think the only thing that would really fix him is talking with you. he’s never been like this before, I just don’t know what to do.”

You knew that he would probably tell you the last part, that he feels out of control. Control issues was what you most talked about with Steve during your sessions. Not that you could blame him, you would definitely have them too after everything he has gone through. But that could be discussed in your future sessions with him. Right now, you just wished everything was back to normal.

You nodded sadly, even more worried for him now. But Steve talking to you changed something. You needed to talk to Bucky. And right now. Your fear of rejection was high and you knew there was a fairly high chance that he was too hurt to trust you and that he would probably say no but you didn’t care. Even if he rejected you, you didn’t care. As long as he would be better and your relationship went back to normal, you could live with it. Even if it would take a long time to get better after this, he would be worth it.

So you just looked up, your mind set on what you had to do. “Where is he? I need to find him right now.”

Steve looked up surprised and said, “Uh, in his room I think. He just signed up for another hard mission and we asked him not to but he insisted. He’s probably getting ready since he will have to leave soon.”

After hearing this, you jumped up frantically while yelling “Thank you so much Steve!” as you ran out, not even caring to stop the door from slamming.

Now, even though you worked in a tower full of superheroes, you were only the therapist and still haven’t ran in a while. So you ran and ignored all the stares of the workers and Avengers. When you finally got there, you were out of breath and breathing hard. But still, you worked through your mini heart attack and knock on the door, still frantic.

You heard some rustling behind the door and a few mumbled curse words when he began saying loudly, “Steve, I’m fine. I’m going on that mission whether you think I should or no-” Bucky opened the door and once he saw you, a probably sweaty, red, and gross you, finished with a confused “-not?”

You put up one finger to signal for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. After that, you joked, “Guess I need to workout more.”

“No, I think you look great. Uh, n-not that my opinion matters or anything. If you think you need to work out then that’s what you should do.” He said, nervously stuttering but nodding at his final sentence like by catching it he saved himself from saying something wrong.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, how can I help you? I do have to leave on a mission soon though.”

It broke your heart how formally he was speaking, almost like you were complete strangers.

Maybe you should go, you thought. But no, you had to. Bucky was worth the embarrassment you could possibly face, whether you two were going to date or not. Forcing yourself to remember that, you steeled yourself and said, “I’m sorry Bucky, about everything I said. That date sounded amazing, it really did. I wanted to go and I still do. I was just worried about how inappropriate it would be for a therapist to date their patient. I didn’t want your mental health to backtrack and I honestly thought that I was doing the right thing. But I miss you, Buck. I miss you terribly. And you're worth all of the risks to me, you outweigh them all. So please don’t go on that mission, let someone else take the dumb risks. From what I’ve heard you have taken enough for a while. Please, just stay with me and we can talk?” You looked up at him pleadingly and saw him pull out his phone before shutting the door in your face.

That shut door hurt you, but you were prepared for it and sighed. It was too good to be true, you guessed. The fairytale ending, the white picket fence, the handsome husband. You turned around, prepared to walk away with the thought of going back to your apartment and drowning your sorrows in chamomile tea and tissues when you heard the door open behind you and felt a hand grab yours to turn you around.

And there was Bucky, smiling like an absolute idiot. And at first you thought that he was making fun of you, but even then you still thought he looked handsome with that smile. “Sam’s in. He’ll take the mission for me.” He said.

“What?” was all you could muster. You had no idea what he was talking about it sounded almost like... That’s when you heard Sam on speaker phone, “Yep, that’s right sweetheart. I’m gonna do the dumb mission. Kiss Bucky real good for me, sucks I can’t be there to do it myself.” Then you heard Sam make a bunch of kissy noises and that’s when Bucky said, “Enough of him.” And ended the call. Then he grabbed your hand once more and shut the door behind you. He backed you against his door with him so close to you that your chest was touching his.

You were still in shock of your luck when Bucky leaned in and kissed you. You were a little shocked but soon kissed him back, and hard. It was like you were underwater and he was the oxygen. The kiss soon turned rougher and you did not mind at all.

A couple hours later you were both laying on the bed, snuggling and watching a dumb movie that both of you weren’t even paying attention to. You were both just too wrapped up in each other’s presence. “Hey, I think you got some of that exercise you mentioned needing. Maybe we could even do some more if you want.” Bucky said, looking down at you and laughing.

You hit him lightly but couldn’t help from laughing hard as well. Only hours ago you thought that you wouldn’t get anything with Bucky. No happy ending, white picket fence, and with Bucky, the whole package. But no, you got much more than that. So much more.

#bucky x y/n #bucky #bucky barnes #x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcc fanfic #mcu #firstfic #love

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lilacwineandthesinkingsun · 3 years

Text

Always feels like Summer

AN. - I really want to take this slow. When / If giving feedback please note that i wrote this to deal with my problems in my life. This writing doesn't made with the purpose of entertaining, i just simply post it on here. However i welcome any HUMANLY told feedback. If you do not like it, or you couldn't say what you want to say without being hurtful, then please just scroll past this. Nor me, nor you would benefit from attacking anyone. I do not consider myself as a snowflake, but words have weight, and i will not tolerate attacking my integrity or anything just for the sake of it. Just so you can hurt somebody.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Pairing: none yet but we'll see

Warnings: cheating, family issues, drinking, language

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You are starting it over, from zero. New city, new apartment, new neighbours. You moved across the ocean just to get away, to be able to get a real clean start. Will your past let you leave though?

If someone would've said to me 3 months ago that i will move to America all alone, just leave everything behind and rent a small apartment all to my own, i would've died from laughing. I had the (for the outside looker) picture perfect life. Big villa, handsome fiancé, financially all sorted since i had my own business, while he was a hotel mogul. Perfect life, perfectly planted all over social media, until that one night. That one faithful night when i decided to surprise him on our 3rd anniversary. With a bottle of champagne i opened the door to his office, thinking his secretary is already on her way home, all finished for the day.. Well turns out she really likes to put in "the extra mile" when it comes to her work. The bottle fell from my hand, alerting them of my presence. I should've been screaming, tearing her and him apart, but somehow i didn't want to do any of that. I took off the massive diamond ring with a straight, emotionless face, walked to his desk where i placed it, turning our engagement photo face down, then left. I have memories of him talking to me, begging, then shouting, but it is all just white noise. I dodged a bullet there.

Truth be told i don't think anything ever hurt like that night before or did it actually hurt at all?.. I couldn't cry. After all i know that i will never be enough, i knew that i'll never be pretty or smart or succesful enough. I am not someone that is loveable. No matter the little acts of love, no matter the sacrifices, I will never be enough. Not just for him, i know my family would still take his side as well. Telling me things like let the man have his fun... he might not be faithful in bed, but you're the one he'll marry. Yeah right, i scoffed while driving to the airport.

I am a well-known webdesigner, i even published books on the subject, held classes in colleges, gave interviews encouraging women to build their own career.. I am sure i'll manage elsewhere. I bought a one way ticket to the first plane to Boston. I had 2 hours until my flight, so i spent that with getting a small apartment in a seemingly quiet area... I honestly never thought i'll ever move out of Sweden. I left everything behind, literally only having my purse and my laptop, and the neccessities.

Finally it was time to board the plane.. Great i will now be smashed to the window the whole flight since i happened to get the only ticket left...next to this huge hunk of a man. I have to admit at any other time i would've been glad to sit next to a handsome, bulky stranger but right now it was the least of what i wanted. I excused myself and put on the eyemask they provided.

The next thing i remember is a smooth but strong hand gently shaking me, a sweet voice telling me to wake up.

-C-Curt? - i mutter, still half asleep.

-I'll have to disappoint you ma'am but it's just me. - he said with a kind smile. - We have arrived in Boston.

I sat up straight looking out the window.

-Well i guess i was really tired. Thank you for waking me up. - I tried my best to offer him a smile, but of course i couldn't not fake it. He scratched the back of his head then got up, letting me out.

-Ma'am! Do you not have luggage? - he asked not understanding why did i start to leave the plane without any kind of suitcase.

-No, i don't - I say, then leave.

I was one of the few people who couldn't get a taxi, or at least for the next hour, so i got a coffee and sat down at a bench just outside the airport. It was rather windy, but sunny day regardless. The rays of the morning sun caressed my face in the light wind. This was the first when i really believed i could do it. I could start it all over. On my own.

Just moments later a car stopped right before me. That man again, from the plane. I looked at him questioningly and tilted my head to the side. He rolled down his window and smiled at me.

-There's a storm coming, there won't be any more taxis here for the next few hours. Where are you headed ma'am? I'm sure i'm able to take you some of the way, if not all.

I stood up, walked over to his car, bending down to the window to be able to talk to him.

-Let's just quit the ma'am thing, i'm not anywhere near that old, and i don't think a day this sunny will end in a storm, but i'll take you up on the offer.

He gave me that damn 2000 watt smile, while opening the door for me to get in.

I fasten my seatbelt, then nod at him.

-So where are you headed? - he asks.

-Hmm, let me look it up. - you said as you opened the email to search for your new address. You put it in the gps and show him. -There.. I'm heading there. It is okay if you cannot take me all the way, i don't wanna mess up your schedule. I'm sure you have places to be.- i said with a small and somehow sad smile.

He nods then gives me my phone back.

-Do you not need the navigation? - i giggle.

-No, i know the area pretty well.

-Oh, i see, is it... like... safe?

-Yes it's a nice neighbourhood. More like a little town of it's own, except it's kind of in the middle of Boston. Everybody knows everybody there. Are you visiting?

-No.. i.. i'm moving there actually.

-Oh so you're the one Sarah talked about.

-I'm guessing you live there too?! - i asked while looking out the window, taking in my new surroundings.

-Yes, i do, matter of fact that - he says as he points at my phone - that makes you my brand new neighbour.

-Such a small world... - i mutter under my nose, hope he doesn't hear it.

He somehow knows he shouldn't pry into the why's of the lack of luggage, and the reason of my move. He let's me adjust to the car, to his presence, and to the new surroundings. An hour later he stops before a nice looking apartment complex.

-This is our stop. - He says with a smile.

With a sigh i get out of the car, and look back at him, before shutting the car door.

-Thank you for taking me home, and sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice day. - I didn't wait for his response, just shut the door, and headed for the main etrance.

It was a nice apartment. It had a little balcony and big windows. Perfect for sunny, warmer mornings, to work, or just to have coffee. It barely had furniture, i'll have to fix that rather sooner than later. But for now I'll settle for a long bath and some take away.

One hour in, and i hear the doorbell ring. Did the press already find me? Is it Sarah? I wonder while quickly putting my robe on, and twist my hair with a towel. As i open the door, i see a suddenly flustered man. The very same one who brought me here from the airport, and i realize i still don't know his name. He coughs, then hands out a bag to me, and he's holding a box of pizza in his other hand.

He has this boyish smile while trying hard to look me just in the eye.

-I...i - he stammers - I brought a few beers and a pizza over. You didn't have luggage, and this flat was empty for 4 years since Buck moved to NYC so i thought you'll need some food maybe some company...

-That is so kind of you! Please come in.. i'll be back in a second.. i'll just.. put on some... clothes first.

He sets the food on the coffeetable while looking at my hurriedly retreating back.

-Please make yourself at ho... yea no problem with that. - I tease him as he's currently getting all comfortable on the couch.

-Oh i'm.. um sorry. I used to spend an awful lot of time in this apartment, i guess it is kind of a second home at this point.

-Well, you're welcome anytime.

-Thank you... um.. Why do i not know your name yet? - He smiles at me confusedly, and i feel a giggle emerge from my throat.

-Because you never asked.. I'm (Y/n). - i say as i held out my hand.

-Steve.. - he says, and his hands linger just a second more than a simple handshake should last.

-So what brings you to this side of the city? I never heard an accent like yours before.

-Um.. i'm from Sweden. I'm kind of.. um.. starting over i guess.

-SHit.. sorry, i didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

-No it's okay.. I guess i'm just not really ready to face the reality of the past few days.

He doesn't ask about it any further. If i'm ready, i'll probably tell him about it all, but for now i'm just happy i'm not spending my first night here alone.

-So tell me about this apartment.. what should i know?

-Well it's in great condition, if you ever see flooding then thats probably the Barton kids upstairs. They like to fill not just the tub, but the whole bathroom as well.. Next to them is Sarah and Sam, siblings. Your neighbours are Nat and Wanda, then on the other side it is me. The wall are rather thin so.. um.. yea there's that... and what else... - he starts to think - oh yea, the door to he balcony is stuck, but i'll come and fix that one for ya.

I look at him with a smile, while open another beer. We spend the next few hours talking, but mainly it's him doing the talking, telling everything i need to know about my neighbours, and the community here. Soon enough it is time for him to leave cause he has work tomorrow.

The next day, i feel rather depressed, so i decide i'll go on a walk. Kind of like a tour of the surrounding area. I found a small coffee around the corner, which i really appreciate right now, since i still don't have a coffee maker at my new home.

When i open the door the scent of freshly brewed coffee hits my nostrils, and i honestly feel a bit happier from it. The chiming of the door alerts the barista who is a red haired girl with a kind face.

-Hi, how can i help you?

-Hello, i would like a cappuchino please.

-Coming right up! Please take a seat, and i'll bring it over right away.

I couldn't help but smile at how kind she is to me. Feel like starting over in a place with kind people like this barista and Steve will be easier than i thought.

-Thank you very much. -I say as she put the coffee down before me.

-You're new here. - She says with a smile, sitting down at the table.

-Is it that obvious?

She giggles - Well i know a swedish accent when i hear one..

-I should practice my english, shouldn't i? - i say laughing.

-No, i really like it. If my old neighbour would still live here he'd be head over heels for you just cause of that accent..

-Thats exactly what my new neighbour said about his friend.. Are you like... a cult?

-That depends on who is your new neighbour really.. -she says smiling at me playfully.-Are you by any chance the new tenant 2 streets down from here?

My eyes are open wide, i don't even need to answer that question, her smile grows 10 times bigger.

-I'm Wanda! Glad to meet you sweet sweet neighbour!

-(Y/n), guess it is a cult then huh? - I ask as we burst out laughing.

She has this aura around her. I know from the start that she's kind, but over my cappuchino we became somehow friends even, and she made me promise that i'll go to the bar with them on Friday. As it is their weekly "cult-meeting".

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Between getting furniture, trying to get clothes and stuff i need, and managing work alone, i find myself being kind of late from the friday cult meeting with my neighbours. Don't get me wrong, i really appreciate that they invited me out, and that they want me to be a part of the gang, but i am just so swamped. I honestly havent left the apartment in 4 days, and i only opened the door to get food, or packages and furniture delivered. Then around 8 a knock on my door startles me.

Greasy, messy bun, and sweatpants, all my glory, i open the door, only to find Wanda and another red-head on the other side.

-Why are you not ready yet? - asks Wanda cheerfully.

-Oh yea, i guess time flies, i'm rather swamped with work and stuff. Still need to get my visa sorted out too.

-I can help with that - said the red-head.

-Shit, sorry, i'm Y/N. - i said as i shook her hand

-Nat. Nice to meet you.

-So you said you can help with the visa thing? I have a fcking degree in design and i can't seem to get a simple working visa right...

Nat and Wanda looks at eachother before laughing.

-What? - I look at them confused.

-Go and take a shower, i'll rummage through your closet and we'll be good to go in no time.

-Yea, that's the other thing i forgot to mention... My closet is pretty much empty still. I moved here with just that. - I said, pointing at my laptop and handbag. I'm telling you... the pure horror on their face was the best thing i've seen all week.

-This is an emergency.

-No it's not.. i can always wear what i came in.

-No you cannot! Jesus, we're going to a bar, and we're gonna dance. - said Wanda.

-I also heard that the boys will be late cause they need to collect mister NYC from the airport.

-Wait.. Mister NYC? Do i already need to look for a new apartment?

-No, (Y/n).. He'll be living with Steve just as before...

-Before what?

-Before Dot?

-Before Who?

-Dot.. his um.. well i honestly don't know what they are at this point, but seeing as he moves back here, and with Steve i guess i'd call them exes.

-Oh nice. We'll have two sulking singles, two bisexuals, and me. - said Nat with a hint of sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes as i headed for the bathroom. I heard the door click shut, assuming they have left to find me some probably too revealing dress or something.

When i came back out i found Nat looking around the flat.

-So why on earth did you leave Sweden? That country is awesome.

-Oh yea well.. It is awesome, i just needed a change of scenery.

-Man problems?

-Bingo. - You said with a sad smile. She walked up to you to hug you.

-Men huh?! - was all she said. Just then Wanda marched trough the apartment with a pair of burgundy heels, and a little black dress. Not too revealing, except for the legs part, but it will be okay, with my leather jacket of course.

Soon enough i was entering the bar behind the girls. I felt great. The dress fit perfectly, and somehow Wanda even got my shoe size right, hair over my shoulders, in nice, loose curls. I felt like when i was in college, when I met that asshole for the first time. Confident, pretty, dressed to kill. Although I felt none of that right now, I still felt better than in the last few days.

Nat put a hand on my waist ushering me further to a box, that had 4 men in it already, one being Steve. All 4 of them were looking at me like they either saw a ghost, or the prettiest woman alive, and i honestly doubted it was the latter.

-And that's your Visa sorted honey. - Nat winked at me, earning a giggle.

Everybody introduced himself, and i decided to sit between Steve and Wanda. I felt most comfortable with them anyways. The conversations we had, all the laughs, teases, drinks felt good. I felt free, and for once in my life i felt i belong. If this is a cult, i'm sure as hell would like to be a part of it.

The girls wanted to dance, but i was just ready to go home and sleep, tomorrow i have a big day, meaning i will be building my bed, and then work all day again. Wanda pouted at me, but no can do. I am drunk enough to know i need to go home before they bring me another shot, cause then i'll lose it and either bring some random guy home, or cry all night in the toilets. And i didn't really wanted either of those.

Steve and as i know now Bucky were heading home as well, so it was convenient we walked there together, and honestly i was thankful for that, cause three shots two beer Y/N was not known for her good navigating skills.

By the time we reached my front door, i got to the state of the - i am horny - but i will cry shamelessly over my ex - stage. And i know i need to get inside the apartment fast, or this would be a short friendship with them.

We said our goodnights, and i tried to open my door. They were nearly inside their apartment when they heard me curse while sobbing a bit.

-Shit... FUCK THIS.. - i cried as i threw the keys on the floor, and sank down the door.

Bucky turned around, leaving Steve at their door.

-Hey... shh doll. Whats wrong?

-I can't get this stupid door open..

-Yea, sometimes it's stuck a bit, here let me help you.

-WHY ARE YOU ALL SO DAMN KIND TO ME?... - i cried even harder.

He bent down to gather little old drunk me in his arms when his scent hit me, and somehow calmed me instantly. I mean i am drunk, i am in this small black dress... Maybe i'll just... yea, i'll just cuddle him a little now that he decided to take me into my apartment. i thought as i laid my head on his chest, with a hand in his neck as he carried me in princess style, and i kind of pretended to be asleep. Getting the cuddles without the cringy talking. BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.

When he notices that i am "asleep" he smiles, and goes for the bedroom, only to realize i have nothing but boxes, and a matress on the floor. He puts me on it carefully, pulling my blanket on me, then he caresses my face as he says - i know you are not sleeping doll, and I don't know who or why hurt you, but i can promise you you are safe with us.

-Please stay, - i murmured, reaching out a hand to him... gosh i am drunk.. - only until i fall asleep.

He looked to be hesitating.

-I don't ask you to fuck me Bucky, i just don't want to be alone.

That makes him chuckle. I feel i can be truly myself with them, and that means running my mouth as well.

-Yea sure doll. - he gets on the mattress nex to me, but far enough for us not to touch.

-So why did you leave this awesome apartment? - Look i was drunk okay? And i ran my mouth.. he didn't seem offended though.

-Well i.. I thought i found somebody that's worth leaving everything behind. Do you know what is the most absurd about it? I only realized i wasn't in love to begin with, when finding her with her boss in our bed ...didn't even really hurt me that much.

I shot up from the bed, looking at him laying one hand behind his head on the other side of the matress.

-Jesus i am so so sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Jesus, and i'm a fucking stranger.

-Chill Y/N it's all good, as i said it didn't hurt, i wasn't in love anymore. I guess never being enough just ruined it all huh. - he reminisinced.

-That i can agree with. - i said and now he was the one looking at me with wide eyes.

-You?

-Me.. - i showed him the subtle tan line where my ring supposed to be. - In the office.. with his secretary.

-Was he stupid or just retarded or some shit?

-No why ? - i asked him giggling.

-What the fuck is more attractive than someone with humor, someone who's intelligent and has her own fcking business that she built out of nowhere without the help of daddy or her boyfriend and has awesome personality and is even so fucking beautiful i thought i'd cry????

-Highheels, skimpy lingerie, and red lips i guess..

-Or the fact that you were just too good for him?

I shoved his shoulder lightly before laying down again.

-Dont put me on a pedestal Bucky. - was the last thing i said before falling asleep on his shoulder, holding his arm as if it was a plushie or something.

The next morning I wake up with a headache, and noise and giggles coming from the kitchen. There is something heavy on me that is surely not my blanket. I turn to look slowly as i see a sleeping man. It takes me a moment to realize that it's Bucky, whom i asked to stay. I quickly take a glance under the blanket, only to see all my clothing still on me. Good. Horny- drunk me didn't get the best of me.

I snuck out to find where the noise is coming from. Only to hear whistles and the giggles of the girls.

-Can you keep it down? My head is gonna explode.

-Suuuure, so i assume you have your visa sorted out?

-What are you even talking about Nat? - asked Wanda

- Well my dear.. Buck sure as hell didn't sleep at Steve's last night.

I mentally curse her for suggesting something that did not happen, while Wanda is looking at all of us wide eyed.

-Chill, nothing happened. Drunk old me just needed a good vent session and he happened to be at the wrong place and time.

-Good i still got a chance then. - said Sam with a toothy grin.

-Hey, i brought her home from the airport, i had dibs first. - pouted Steve

-Jesus, no dibs guys. - You laughed as Bucky emerged from your room, then it was his turn to get the whistles.

-So when will you tell us how you got in this town? - Wanda looked at me with big doe eyes.

-I'm not gonna get away with just sulking i gather.. Okay okay... fuck.. i need coffee first.

Then i proceeded to tell them how we got together, and how it ended, about how my family reacted. All of it.

-How are you not crying now? This broke my heart and i known you for a week. - Asked Wanda whispering to me next to the coffeemachine Steve lent me, while looking over the rest of the team on the couch.

-Yea, well.. Someone told me their own story, and i realized it didn't hurt nearly as much as it should cause i was never happy there to begin with. And how could i cry when i suddenly have a cult of friends that break into my apartment while i'm in my room sleeping with a stranger..

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #steve x bucky #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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